


Of Men and Monsters

by An_R



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Badass Hux, Canon Compliant, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Hand Job, Hux Backstory, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kylo Ren Angst, Kylo Ren Backstory, M/M, Not Beta Read, Post-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Slow Burn, Snoke Being a Dick
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-18
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-06-02 23:14:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 22,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6586759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/An_R/pseuds/An_R
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My take on the events before and after SW:TFA or yet another fic about Kylo and Hux's journey from rivals to lovers.<br/>I started this story last year and now I've begun to revise it in order to finally get it to an end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet young Colonel Hux as he's promoted and joins the Finalizer's crew.

Colonel Hux’s first thought when he was notified of his promotion to the rank of Admiral had nothing to do with pride or achievement, even though he was to become the youngest Admiral in the history of civilized galaxy. Not even the image of his father came to his mind at that moment, which was strange enough. Actually, his first thought wasn’t properly a thought. It was more like a feeling of relief. For the first time since he graduated the Military Academy as a lieutenant of the First Order, he was not supposed to wear the name of some dead Empire dignitary in his uniform armband. In his opinion, that was the tackiest tradition the First Order had adopted to honor its predecessor, but at least he had been lucky enough that they never made him carry his father’s name. 

Not that Hux didn't valued the Galactic Empire’s heritage, being himself the son of a celebrated officer of the deposed regime, but unlike many of his peers, the soon-to-be Admiral believed the Empire was, above all, a lesson to be learned by the upcoming generations, not some relic to be cherished, or worse, imitated. 

The promotion didn’t come alone, as it never did. For start, it implied that he would be appointed to another station, which was fine to him. Hux had been living onboard since he was nine years old, when his father gave order for him to be sent to the Avenger, the first warship reformed by the Order into a shipboard school under the New Republic unsuspecting eyes. After twenty two years, there was nothing about the Order’s fleet he didn’t know and moving, even from ship to ship, had always been welcome.

The day before the promotion ceremony, Hux was told by his superior officer that he had been designated to the Finalizer, a Resurgent-class Star Destroyer with flagship status. Although Hux did expect a relevant position, that came as a surprise. The Finalizer’s reputation went far beyond its impressive size and firepower. The ship’s operations were highly classified and even its current location was a mystery. Also, it was commanded by General Dante, an imperial – as former Empire officers were known among the Order's ranks, – that remained notably attached to the old ways. It’d be quite a challenge to be the second-in-command to a man that’d be still cloning stormtroopers if it were up to him. On the other hand, he’d never have hoped for a better opportunity to work directly under the supervision of the Supreme Leader of the First Order. 

It may seem strange that a forward-looking man like Hux held respect for an ancient mystic entity, but he sincerely admired Leader Snoke, whoever he was. After all the misery and persecution that followed the Galactic Concordance, the ideals of order, justice and prosperity the Empire once stood for would be lost forever. It was Snoke, and Snoke alone, who brought together what was left of them. Without him, there’d be no First Order and no hope for the galaxy. 

Three days later, Admiral Hux went aboard the Finalizer. It didn’t take long for him to find out that General Dante was less than pleased by his arrival. Neither took him long to find himself an alternative source of information, among other conveniences. 

******

Lieutenant Morell breathed hard as he tried his best to regain his bearings. It had been so long since he was invited to a superior officer’s private chambers that he didn’t remember if he was supposed to dress up and leave discreetly or if he might linger and share a cigarette. As he had found out two years ago, the rumors were true: the Finalizer was the worst station of the First Order for private matters. So when the young and good-looking Admiral Hux hit on him, it didn’t take him more than a second to say yes.

The mattress surface bounced softly when Hux, back from the refresher, lied beside him. Morell thought he was about to be invited out, but Hux placed a datapad carefully over Morell’s bare chest.

“What is it?” asked Morell, a little surprised. 

“Take a look.”

Morell stared at the pad for a moment, his expression hardening in a childish pout as his fingers reached for the screen. “So… there’s more to it than sex.” 

“Don’t take me wrong. You are a great fuck. But there can be other benefits.”

“Hey!” exclaimed Morell, louder than he intended, eyes wide opened as he stared at the data on display, “Those are my evaluation grades!” 

“As you can see, they need considerable improvement.”

“Why- Why are you showing me this?”

“Take a wild guess.”

Morell hesitated.

“You’ve been here for two years,” continued Hux “- and I’ve been here for five days. There must be something you know about this place that I don’t. Not technicalities, of course, I mean the juicy stuff.”

“Please, sir. General Dante takes the First Order regulation very seriously, especially when it comes to indiscretions.”

“Fraternizing can also be considered an indiscretion and yet, here you are.” 

It wasn’t really like that and both of then knew it. With most of the crew raised in warships, commanders of the First Order’ vessels tended to be tolerant about private affairs and that included sex. Some even allowed relationships to become public and official, although there were few cases of successful unions born this way. Among the Order’s high ranks, romance and even attachment between bedmates were seen as a sign of foolishness and lack of commitment. Long term relationships, if not arranged, were supposed to be carefully planned as any other aspect of the career and kept with the utmost discretion.

Hux turned his face to look at him. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, though. So choose.”

Morell’s eyes traveled from the datapad he was holding to the Admiral’s piercing green eyes, for the first time fixated on him. 

“Fine. But if it’s about the secret base…”

“I’ve already learned more than enough about that. Tell me about the Supreme Leader and his apprentice for start. I know they use this ship for other purposes. Their own purposes.”

“The Supreme Leader only talks to the general. Everybody knows that. And those reunions aren’t documented in any form.” 

Disappointing, but Hux didn’t expect otherwise. He turned around and grabbed an e-cig from a bedside drawer.

“But I’ve met Kylo Ren more than a couple of times,” added Mozell.

“You mean Lord Ren, the Jedi Killer.”

“No— We were never instructed to call him Lord. Those titles died with the Empire, they say.”

“I thought dark jedi or whatever they are enjoyed Empire affectations.”

Morell smiled. “He’s not nobility as far as I know.”

“Some may disagree.”

“Please—” The smile faded. “To even think about that is forbidden. There’s a decree, remember?”

“Okay. So, what’s he like?”

“A gangling brute in a Darth Vader costume. Enters and leaves the bridge as there is no one there but the general. He seems to be always looking for something; it’s so unsettling to be anywhere near him. Believe me; we’re lucky he’s gone.”

“Not trying to win a popularity contest, I see.” 

“Troopers like him.”

“They do?” That was interesting.

“They are scared to death of him, but yes. Even Captain Phasma says so.” 

“And what does he do to earn their appreciation? Performs magic tricks for them?”

“He goes to the field. Must be some fighters-stick-together thing. Or maybe his presence reduces causalities in the end. He does use the Force in combat. It’s all there in Captain Phasma’s reports. Stops blaster shots midair, can you imagine?” Morell moved to his side hoping for some eye contact, but Hux remained staring at the ceiling, almost absently. “If you plan to use him as reinforcement in regular missions, you better give up. The general already tried to no avail. Ren is too unpredictable and answers to no one but the Supreme Leader himself. He’s not officially First Order. Doesn’t even wear a badge.”

“What about his staff?”

“What staff?”

“Someone has to be at his back and call when he’s aboard.”

“No previous designations that I know of. The man doesn’t even own a droid. And before you ask, he doesn’t fuck anyone. They say his face is hugely damaged behind that mask, like the Emperor’s. That’s a dark side of the force thing, you know, being disfigured.”

Hux had already heard rumors like that, so it was a little disappointing that the Finalizer crew didn’t know any better than the same old childish assumptions about dark sider’s appearance. 

“Anything else?”

Morell gave it a thought. “We believe he reads minds.”

“Come on... Even Darth Vader was only a good guesser at most.” A good guesser who didn’t predict the Empire’s fall, a fact that, for Hux, only proved the wastefulness of placing so much faith in supernatural abilities. 

“It’s true. Whenever he interrogates prisoners, they always talk.” 

“Maybe he just inflicts them more pain somehow.”

“I’m not saying what he does to them isn’t painful, but it’s definitely a mind-to-mind thing. Not a drop of blood is splat, no broken bones, no sedation... Besides, the general ordered us to keep respectful thoughts in his presence. ”

Hux almost laughed. Almost. “Oh, that’s precious.”

“I’d better go now,” said Morell as he got up. “Will there be a next time?”

“If you wish.”

The lieutenant dressed up in silence. He could use a bath, but asking to use the bathroom was out of the question. Real showers with real water were one of the most prized privileges one could have aboard any starship. Only high-ranking officers had. No thing to be shared, even between bedmates.

“Will you help me with the evaluation?” he asked by the door.

“I already did.”

“Really? How?”

“Now you know where you stand and knowing is half of the battle. They never told you that at the Academy?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of the things I didn't get it from the canon we know so far is the reason Snoke officialy banned Kylo's birth name, since it indicates that people in the First Order know about Kylo's origin, when people in the Resistance don't seem to have a clue about that. Poe Dameron must have known or at least heard of Leia's son, but the only good guy, besides his father, that confronts Kylo about his past is Lor San Tekka. Strange, no? Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter.
> 
> Meet me on Tumblr - http://an-r-1.tumblr.com/


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hux is not so good at making friends. Or maybe he's just too good at that.

Life aboard warships had its advantages, as Hux had many times told himself. Despite all the long term damage that artificial gravity, synthetic water and military rations did to the human body, there was almost a poetic sense of liberty in it. So, it came as a surprise that he didn’t feel at home aboard the Finalizer. It was true that most of the other First Order ships tended to be as kept cold and impersonal as it can be, but the Finalizer was run like a prison. There were no gathering rooms for off-duty officers, no black market for earthly trivialities and even private quarters furnishing was not only strictly regulated but also submitted to regular inspections. And that was not even the worse part. After nine months slaving away as General Dante’s chief officer, Hux still felt like a cadet, subdued and voiceless under his superior’s persisting contempt.

And once again he had been summoned to the general private office by the end of his shift. Most of times, Dante only used him as an outlet to his frustrations, but Hux had to admit that for once he did something stupid. He had criticized some aspects of the Starkiller operation to a fellow officer, who promptly reported him to the general. On the other hand, that could be the opportunity he expected to speak his mind about the project. 

However, after the same old speech about his inaptitude for the position he had been appointed to, Dante refused to listen to anything he had to say.

“I don’t remember asking for your input, admiral. You will never criticize the Starkiller project in front of the crew again. Is that understood?”

“General, with all due respect, there’s no critic in stating aspects--”

“That will be all. You’re dismissed.”

Hux stood still for an instant, hesitating between what he had planned to do and leaving in silence as he was supposed to. 

“What are you waiting for, admiral? I said you're dismissed.”

Hux closed his eyes for a moment. Maybe it was time for him to adopt an alternative strategy. 

“Don’t you think this is highly counterproductive, sir. I’m not the enemy. What is it about me you find so intolerable? My lack of field experience? My age? The color of my hair? Please, tell me so that I can at least I know what I’m up against.”

The mention of his hair color was not made for the sake of rhetoric. The Empire did have a set of rules against distinctive corporal features that was heavily applied to redhead officers. As for his verbal attack, Hux expected the worse, of course. Severe admonition at least, maybe even detention. General Dante, however, chuckled.

“As far as I’m concerned, First Order ships aren’t much more than day care centers for untested officers who think they can rely in their once meaningful family names. There’s nothing special about you, admiral. Your ascending career is not a product of merit. It’s a sad contingency.”

The sound of a beep from the communicator interrupted what would certainly evolve to a potentially risky argument and Hux was grateful for it. Dante was not the first person to underestimate his efforts; he should be used to it by now. So why couldn’t he be patient and wait for the man’s downfall as he always had done?

After announcing himself, Petty Officer Thanisson entered the room. “Excuse me, general. We’ve just received a conference request for the restricted auditorium. It’s from Supreme Leader Snoke.”

“I’m on my way.”

“The message says the Supreme Leader wishes to speak to Admiral Hux, sir. Alone.”

Thanisson couldn’t tell which of them seemed more surprised, but it was Admiral Hux who first recovered his balance. 

“Show me the way, officer.”

***

Hux remained still like a statue in the middle of a too large and dark assembly room while he waited for Snoke’s holo transmition to start. For the first time in many years, he felt unsure, even anxious. He didn’t know what to expect.

When the audience began, Hux couldn’t describe his own shock at the figure that appeared before him. He had always imagined Supreme Leader Snoke to be different from Emperor Palpatine. An old bad-looking being, for sure, but somehow imposing; able to inspire utmost respect, maybe even fear. How wrong he had been. Leader Snoke was as skinny and damaged as a long dead corpse. How could such a pitiful creature acomplish so much?

“I see my appearance disappointed you, Admiral Hux,” said the creature with a half-smile. The voice was strong and firm, at least that.

“No, Supreme Leader. I’m deeply honored to be here in your presence.” Hux stuttered the last syllables. It was also the first time since his early academy years, he felt awkward and out of words while talking to a dignitary. “How may I serve you?”

“Not me, admiral. The First Order,” said Snoke. “You must be curious about this meeting.”

“I confess I am. This reunion has no precedence, or so I was told.”

“You’re right. A tradition about time to be changed. Tell me, admiral. What are your impressions about the Starkiller Base project? Please, be honest.”

Hux took a deep breath. “It’s a new, megalomaniac version of the Death Star and a waste of valuable resources. Even if it works, after some few charges it will be rendered useless. There’s only one sun that can actually be drained in recharge, according to my calculations. Once it’s gone, the weapon will never fire again. I’m sorry, Supreme Leader, but except for propaganda purposes, I fail to see the strategic advantage it should bring us.”

“That’s precisely why I want you to be in charge of it.”

“Me? I—I’m flattered, sir, but General Dante--” 

“General Dante is not a science man, unlike you, admiral. There’s much you can contribute.” 

“I’m a graduated engineer, sir, but I’ve been working on the Stormtrooper program for seven years. Weaponry is not my field of experience."

“So you refuse?”

“No, I mean—I’m afraid I’m not qualified.”

“Oh, but you are. I know all there’s to know about you, admiral. Your impressive academic achievements, your precocious promotions and the pains you took for each one of them. I know you alone designed most of the simulations applied in Stormtrooper’s training, even those you were not credited for. I also know that your father, after decades of exemplary conduct, deserted the First Order and that since then you’ve been living aboard; to the point your body can no longer process must of its needed nutrients. Yet, you’ve proved yourself unstoppable. You see, admiral… the men who worth more praising are not the flawless ones. They are the ones who overcome the challenges that are placed before them at all costs. The First Order is in great debt to men like Dante, but it’s time to move on.”

Hux didn’t know what to say. No one knew about his father defection, except himself, the only witness to the old man’s final act of insanity. For a moment, he felt like he was once again nine years old, standing in the middle his father’s Academy hall, holding with both hands an oversized blaster pistol, like if he really could prevent the man from leaving without pulling the trigger. The only occasion he remembered he had not been able to fulfil his duty to the Order. Officially, Commander Brendon Hux died heroically during Arkanis tragic evacuation, leaving his only son a solid family name and an acceptance letter to a First Order Military Academy. 

“How…” better not to ask, he thought. “I’ll do my best, Supreme Leader. Your trust is not misplaced,” he finally answered. 

“I’m sure it’s not. There’s one more thing,” said Snoke. “From now on, we’ll have regular meetings. As far as Starkiller is involved, you’ll report only to me. No matter what.”

“Yes, Supreme Leader.”

By the time Hux arrived back at the bridge, the news of his new commandership status had already spread. Two months later, General Dante announced his retirement. No one doubted the rumors that Admiral Hux would be soon promoted to his place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to SW VII Visual Dictionary, an entire generation of First Order officers were raised aboard starships, 'cause they didn't have anywhere to go after the Empire's downfall. I think that's quite interesting. :)
> 
> http://an-r-1.tumblr.com/


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hux finally has a chance to get to know Snoke's apprentice, but things don't go according to plan.

“You did well, general,” complimented Snoke. “Finally, progresses are being made. I hope the constant excursions to Starkiller base are not much of an aggravation to you.”

“Not at all, sir. It’s actually nice to be on land again after so many years,” Hux lied. Nice was not a precise word to describe the amount of nausea he endured every time he set his feet at that place, whose weather, to his displeasure, was even worse than Arkanis’, his long forgotten home-planet. 

“I’m pleased to hear that.” Snoke smiled. 

“Supreme Leader, the Finalizer will be soon reaching Rakata Prime’s orbit, as instructed. The information we have, however, is that rebellion has been subdued by the unit commanded by Admiral Kanui and Commander Kylo Ren”. It was still strange (not to say impossible) for him to say Kylo Ren, no title or rank attached. 

“I expected that. My apprentice has been away from the Finalizer for some time. It’s about time for you to meet.”

“I’m looking forward to it, sir.” That was also a lie. None of his sources had so far presented any evidence that he and the Jedi Killer were even remotely compatible. 

“You’ll have to be patient with him, general,” advised Snoke, “I’m afraid you’ll find my apprentice unrefined and intimidating, but I assure you he’ll cause you and your crew no harm. Kylo Ren is still learning his way within the First Order and, unlike you, he was not properly polished from birth.”

Of course he wasn’t, thought Hux. The man was the product of the marriage between the utmost rebel scum and a so-called war hero who deserted his duties to become a racing pilot before going back to smuggling. What could be more chaotic than that?

“I’m sure that will be no problem, sir.”

“We shall see.”

Hux didn’t like the last remark. He was more than capable of dealing with Snoke’s creature. 

After the audience, Hux found out that Kylo Ren and two First Order officers were already on board, but obviously, no one dared to interrupt his reunion with Snoke to tell him about their arrival. Admiral Kanui and Captain Landers waited for him at the bridge while one of his officers, Lieutenant Mikata, dutifully explained them some of the ship’s features. Kylo Ren was nowhere to be seen. 

The next shift was spent with his peers, analyzing data and discussing First Order’s occupations in the Unknown Regions. Hux was a little skeptic that the New Republic remained oblivious to such an aggressive military expansion. Warships like the Finalizer weren’t meant to travel in secrecy and it was well known that sympathizers were broadcasting First Order propaganda even at their capital. How could they still ignore what was ahead?

After Admiral Kanui and Captain Landers returned to Rakata Prime’s outpost, Hux decided it was time take some rest. He’d been awake for five shifts and although he didn’t sleep much, the task of commanding both the Finalizer and the Starkiller operation was starting to weight on him. 

He walked the deserted hallway towards the residential wing when something grabbed his arm and pulled him towards a deactivated stockroom. 

“Are you out of your mind?” asked Hux as he realized something that unpredictable and stupid could only be Morell’s doing. 

“They are transferring me, Hux. I’m staying in Rakata, under Captain Landers.”

Hux made an effort not to look bored or displeased. He felt he owed him that at least. “I’m sorry if it was not what you wanted but I told you to improve your grades. Transference is the least of what happens to officers fresh from Academy who don’t perform as expected.”

“You are the commander of this vessel. They cannot transfer me if you won’t let them.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. In what grounds would I plea your case? Some Pro-Fuck Act that I don’t know about?”

“You can come up with something. Please, I don’t want to be away from you.”

 _And be thrown in a shit-hole planet like Rakata Prime_ , Hux thought to himself. “I’m tired, Morell. Major Arkadi is your designated evaluator. Try giving him a blowjob, maybe he’ll change his mind. You’re pretty good at it,” said Hux leaving the room.

All Hux wanted was to reach his personal quarters and forget all about that nonsense but Morell stood again before him, blocking his way.

“At least keep me company before I go!” Morell begged, grabbing once again Hux’s right arm. Hux knew he hadn’t given up yet. But then he froze. “Fuck...” Unlike his previous words, the curse came out of Morell mounth as a whisper, barely audible.

Hux turned around to find Kylo Ren - the Kylo Ren - coming in their direction. Morell took two steps towards the wall and stood there, stiff as a stormtropper during one of Captain Phasma’s inspections. Hux wished he could do the same, but when Snoke’s apprentice stopped in front of him, he had already recovered some of his composure. He had waited for this moment for a long time; he wouldn’t let a minor indiscretion give that freak the high ground.

“Commander, we meet at last”, he greeted before gesturing his subordinate to leave, an order Morell gladly obeyed for a change.

“General Hux.”

A deep, modulated voice, as expected. Hux was used to be surrounded by helmets and metallic voices; after all, he was the main designer of the Stormtrooper program. Foot soldiers didn’t need faces; his father had been right about that, and as far as he knew, Kylo Ren was nothing more than that. But nothing in Snoke’s apprentice seemed to be remotely according to First Order regulation. His cape looked old and singed, and the face mask also displayed visible battle damage. Supreme Leader should teach him not to dress like an Outer Rim gang member. It was beyond distasteful.

“I apologize for not being present at your arrival but the Supreme Leader required my presence.”

“That would be unnecessary. I see you’re a very busy man.”

For an unrefined individual, Kylo Ren seemed a little too proficient in sarcasm. Better to change the subject.

“I assume you’ve heard of the Starkiller operation. Soon you may see its development for yourself. It will be the greatest achievement of the First Order.”

“Unless the First Order finds the whereabouts of the last Jedi, this petty weapon you’re so proud of will be good for nothing.”

“Oh, but I thought finding Luke Skywalker was your job”.

“It is. So you better stay out of my way.”

The monotone of his voice didn’t change, but that definitely sounded like a threat. Hux stared at his back as he left, probably to the quarters where he kept that awful Darth Vader relic no one dared to take a peek at, even though the door was said to have no lock. 

Hux gave up taking a break and, instead, returned to the bridge. He could take another shift. He had much to think of to sleep.

“Already back, sir?” asked lieutenant Mikata, regardful as always. 

“Get me all we have about officer’s position sensors.”

“Officers, sir?”

“Starkiller personnel have them. I want to see the reports.” 

“Yes, sir-- General, there’s an appointment scheduled at the med--”

“Cancel it. No, tell Colonel Mallin to send his droid here,” he ordered, rushing to the office. “And Lieutenant, there’s one more thing. Call Major Arkadi and tell him to get Lieutenant Mozell out of the transfer list. I want him on Starkiller Base. If he asks you the reason, tell him it’s an order.”

“Yes, sir. Right away.”

Hux had just received the reports when Colonel Mallin was announced. With all that work, he had completely forgotten he had a routine check-up to attend. The Chief Medical Officer of the Finalizer was probably the oldest person aboard, a man in his late sixties, also a former Empire officer. There were rumors he had survived the destruction of one of the Death Stars, although Hux knew it couldn’t be true since it was not mentioned on his record. Hux had always found amusing to have older man saluting him, but Mallin was an exception. It felt wrong with him somehow, maybe because the man managed to sound perfectly respectful and informal at the same time. But what bothered Hux more was that he felt young and unproved in his presence. He hadn’t quite decided if it was a bad thing or just weird. 

“You should take better care of yourself, general,” said Mallin, as the small diagnostic device attached to Hux’s right arm started beeping its conclusions. 

“I’d be a rich man if I received credits every time a medic told me that. I was a warship brat, there not much to do about it,” he answered, suppressing a yawn. He tried to make it look like he was bored, but actually, he was just plain tired. 

“This is what most of us have become, even old man like me. No excuse to be late with your shots though. You should get more sleep too. That’s how humans recharge, you know.” 

“Did you meet Darth Vader?” The question came out of nowhere, even to Hux. Although he didn’t like to discuss health issues and appreciated even less Mallin’s condescending tone, he hadn’t planned to go that way. Asking an imperial about Vader didn’t match his ideal of valid pursuit of useful information. On the contrary, it felt too much like pointless gossip; something far beneath his rank. 

Mallin, however, didn’t show surprise. “Yes. Many times. I served aboard the first Death Star. Glad I was a TIE Fighter pilot back then.”

“Really?” asked Hux. He should be angry he was being lied to. But then again, a general wasn’t supposed to engage in silly conversation with his medical officer. 

“Yep. I still keep the badge I earned when I joined his squad. Few remember, but Vader was an admirable pilot. I can show you next time, if you like.”

“Save it to Commander Ren. I’m not particularly a Vader devotee.”

“So why did you ask, may I know?”

“You may not. Is it done?”

“Just a couple of minutes more. I know it’s cold.”

“It’s bearable,” Hux lied. “I just have a lot to do.” In fact, he was freezing since he’d striped the uniform’s tunic. Keeping his greatcoat over his shoulders didn’t help much if all that was beneath it was a sleeveless undershirt. He hoped his lips didn’t go purple. He hated when his body betrayed him. 

He grabbed his datapad and started to check the tracker’s report, as if he were alone in his office.

Some minutes passed in silence.

“It’s finished,” announced Mallin when the beeping stopped. 

“Finally,” said Hux, eyes still fixated on the datapad screen, as the sting of the device needles inoculated in his bloodstream whatever his body missed. “You’re dismissed.” He didn’t want to give him space to talk about what he should and shouldn’t to do to keep himself healthy.

“Yes, sir.” 

Mallin collected his equipment while Hux dressed in silence. He didn’t even bother to acknowledge the last thing the doc said before he left, but, once he was alone again, Hux considered for a minute if he had been unnecessarily rude. 

“Whatever,” he murmured to himself, before resuming his reading.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I believe Hux is ruthless, goal-oriented and works his ass off, but I also think he learned to enjoy the precedence he receives. He's a natural competitor that happened to be raised in a very competitive place. Ren, however, is not his usual rival, which is to him as unsettling as exciting. 
> 
>  
> 
> http://an-r-1.tumblr.com/


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ren meets an old ally and Hux tries to be smart.

Kylo Ren watched the black starhopper boisterous landing at Hangar H002 of the Finalizer. General Hux had almost ordered his crew to shoot the unidentified vessel down, but luckily, he was close enough to stop him. He didn’t like the overconfident redhead his master had appointed to command the Finalizer, but he couldn’t blame him for that mistake in particular. He was aware that his companions couldn’t care less about First Order approaching protocols. The Rougue’s ship didn’t even have a compatible radio for start.

Short after the ship’s engines halted, a dark and masked figure appeared at the top of the access ramp, holding an old chest under his left arm. 

“Master,” he said with a low, raspy voice, “what the fuck was that?”

“We have a new general that believes foreign ships must make contact and request permeation before docking. What do you have for me?”

The newcomer gave him the chest. “We’re close. I know it. I took it from Tekka’s last hiding place on Tatooine.”

 _Tatooine. How creative_ , Ren thought. “We shall see.”

“Come with me. You’re one of us. The hunt is slowed without you.”

“Supreme Leader wants me here.”

“For how long?”

“For as long as he wishes.”

“The Resistance. They’re looking for the map too, now more than ever. They have something.”

“I know. Join the others. Look for the old man in the Western Reaches. I sensed he moved there somewhere with that puerile cult of his.”

The dark figure bowed and got back in the ship.

Ren didn’t wait to watch the departure. He returned to his quarters, ignoring the startled looks he received from the officers he met in his way. There was a couch in the main chamber; in front of the stand where he kept his grandfather’s helmet, but he sat on the floor with his back to the wall. He took a closer look at the very old, used up chest before proceeding. It was for real, he could sense it. It belonged to someone powerful once, a Jedi Master, perhaps. His knights had done well this time. 

The lock was long ruined, but the chest was tightly closed. He didn’t bother to be gentle, so some of the wood was damaged even further as he ripped it open. He knew he wouldn’t find much in there, so the metallic pieces came out as a surprise. The chest’s owner had used it to keep small parts and tools, most of them never put to work. As he touched the pieces, his breathing became erratic. There was too much light in it. Then a realization stuck him. Kenobi. The damned thing had once belonged to his grandfather’s Master. There was a small medal among the chest’s contents, something as ancient as the Old Republic. Its inscriptions had long faded, but for a moment, Ren could see a young, auburn-haired padawan showing his newfound treasure to his master, a tall man, with long hair and a beard. The child seemed so happy and the man smiled back at his pupil so fatherly. Ren dropped the medal, overwhelmed by that insignificant flicker of vision. _It’s nothing_ , he told himself, yet unable to carry on. He put the chest aside for a moment and closed his eyes.

And it happened. 

_The light is not the virtuous side of the Force_ , he heard the tall Jedi master say, like a sinner’s confession. _The light is neutral. It’s the Force itself and some may consider it to be good and honorable, as Master Yoda believes, but actually, it isn’t._

_So the ancient Sith aren’t evil, master?_ He recognized the same auburn-haired child, now older, in his early teens. 

_It’s not that simple, Benny._

_Don’t call me that, master. My name is Obi-Wan._

He forced his eyes open before he could see next, but it was too late; his chest was burning. He took his mask off, suddenly suffocated by it, as the image of a little girl appeared before him, uninvited and so real he felt he could touch it. She was screaming for someone to come back, her despair as tangible as her heartbreaking sobbing, but the answer she’s got came from a distant time and place, in Han Solo’s voice. 

_Sorry, kid. It’s for your own good._

“Enough,” he heard himself plead, but his mind was way beyond his control. The girl was gone, her image replaced by a younger version of Skywalker in a frustrated mood. 

_You must find the first Jedi Temple, Luke._ The ghostly voice was unknown to him, but familiar nevertheless. 

_I’m a Jedi, as my father before me_ , his former master answered. _I must pass on what I’ve learned, as Master Yoda told me to._

Then it all went dark and cold, but he still heard him say _No, there’s still light in him, I know it._

By the time Kylo Ren regained his self-control, he found himself lying curled on the floor, sweaty and hollow. Standing had never felt so hard; he would have vomited if he had anything in his stomach. There was a beeping sound coming from the panel near the entrance. His Master, who certainly sensed the disturbance he had just gone through, was summoning him. Without thinking twice, he put his mask back on and left.

Snoke already waited for him.

“Master,” he greeted, trying to keep his voice steady.

“I sensed you have something to tell me. What is it, my apprentice?” He sounded casual, but Ren knew better. 

“One of the knights brought me a chest that belonged to Obi-Wan Kenobi. I searched through it and-- I think I know where Skywalker exiled himself. Once we have the complete map, it will lead to the First Jedi Temple.”

“The First Jedi Temple, you say. Interesting. And you used the light to access this information.”

“Yes,” Ren answered, knowing it was a half-truth. He didn’t access anything; the light came to him, like a pull, tearing up his insides. “It won’t happen again.”

“Don’t make promises you don’t know if you are able to keep. There’s a long way before you learn to outshine the light,” Snoke said, “But you see, the light may favor us sometimes, as it did today.” He paused. “Was it all?”

“Yes. No, but it didn’t make sense.”

“It will. Patience, I know this isn’t easy for you.” 

“Let me go back to the hunt, master. This is not my place.”

“You miss being the Jedi Killer. Bloodshed can keep a man focused, but it’s time for you to think about your future and the future is the First Order.” 

If Ren had the energy to argue, he would not have the time. The gate to the assembly hall opened and General Hux approached in quick steps. He had been summoned too, obviously. Ren preferred he had not.

“Forgive me Supreme Leader,” he said, worriedly. “I’ve just been informed--”.

“You are not late, general.”

Ren almost lost the track of time while his Master and general smarty talked about the Starkiller Base. For someone who once thought the construction of a massive destruction weapon was a waste of time, General Hux seemed a little too overjoyed about the project. Ren didn’t remember watching Snoke being so affable to a First Order commander before. And he didn’t know why it bothered him so much.

“We’ll be reaching Starkiller’s orbit in twelve hours. The on-site inspection is already scheduled.”

“Good.” Snoke smiled. “It’s all for the moment. I’ll wait for your report, as soon as possible. ”

The holo faded.

Ren was glad it was over. The only thing was, it wasn’t. Not yet.

“We need to discuss some details, Ren, if you don’t mind, of course.”

“What details?”

“Please, we’re near my office.”

“I though you enjoyed discussing your business in public.”

Hux didn’t lose face. “It’s important. Please.”

The general’s office was, from Ren’s point of view, as fancy as its owner. A large desk, a huge armchair, three monitors, a sophisticated communication device and so forth. The First Order’s poster boy was not different then a senator of the New Republic afterall. 

“What is it?” asked Ren, felling his patience wearing thin.

“Early today I realized you and your associates don’t know much about First Order regulation. It’s understandable, I’m aware you exist outside the formal chain of command. But as far as the Starkiller Base is concerned, by decree of Supreme Leader Snoke, there are no exceptions.”

“What do you mean?”

“Give me your belt,” said Hux.

“Is this a joke? Because if it is, I’m not in the mood. Believe me, you don’t want to see me angry.”

“If you intend to step on Starkiller, you’ve got to wear a position sensor. I’ll be wearing one myself. You may have all the reports and deliberations, if you like, but it’s such a boring mess. There are--” 

Hux felt himself go rigid. His heart still beat and he was still able to breath, but that was all.

“You’re playing it wrong, general,” advised Ren, with a calm voice. “Is that what you think of me? That I’m some undereducated bully you can impress with your neat uniforms and regulations?”

He was so close now, Hux could fell his heat.

“You feeble little thing. Even if I were a lesser man, you wouldn’t stand a chance. I know the Supreme Leader told you I’d not harm you or your crew, but, sometimes, even Leader Snoke lies.”

Ren took off his belt and slammed it against the desk, letting Hux free from the unnatural grip. “You may install your dammed sensor now, general”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why, but I have the feeling that the Knights of Ren were the first group of long-term friends Ren's ever had (even if they are not officially friends). They work for Snoke, they worship the dark side and they look like a bunch of cool space pirates.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last hours before the disaster or something about Poe Dameron, Mikata and Han Solo.

// Finalizer # Shift 22.1 //

“I’ve seen her, grandfather. Every time I have a vision, she’s there,” Kylo Ren told the ruined helmet of Darth Vader. “The orphan child Skywalker sent away from the Temple. Why now?”

He didn’t expect for an answer. His grandfather didn’t talk to him anymore and he knew he’d never come back.

“That’s not all,” he continued, in his unholy confession. “A stormtrooper, FN-2187. He’s not strong with the Force, but the Force was with him today, at Tuanul. He doesn’t know that, but I sensed it. Whatever they did to his mind, it's vanished. He couldn’t harm the villagers, even after I put the old man down. I should have killed him, but I didn’t. Now I feel it was a huge mistake, still... I should warn General Hux. Supreme Leader favors him. He’s not getting a thing from that pilot. They’re already looking for me.”

He searched through the broken helmet once more, aware of the futility of it. The cast was as empty now as the durasteel on the walls. Then he stood and left towards the prison units.

General Hux was waiting for him outside the cell where they held the Resistance pilot.

“He doesn’t talk,” stated Hux, not so cocky this time. “We tried everything that doesn’t endanger his life too much. He’s Poe Dameron, best pilot of the Resistance and General Organa’s pick. It’s important that he endures a little longer.”

The mention of General Organa was not deliberate. Hux was so frustrated that his methods had failed that he didn’t connect the dots at the moment. Ren decided not to hold it against him. _Close the door_ , he heard Hux say, as he entered the cell. The general’s tone was neutral, but he could sense that he believed he was doing him a favor. _Some privacy for Snoke’s beast to perform his mind-rape,_ he would have said out loud, if he dared. Ren decided not to hold that against him too. At least Hux didn’t ask him for information other than the one concerning the map. He was not always as unwise as he seemed most of the time. Perhaps he should consider offering him the Resistance’s location as a peace gift.

The pilot was awake, but barely. Ren tried small talk first. Sometimes, it worked. He didn’t expect it to work with Poe Dameron, of course, but he tried anyway, for the sake of them both. Despite the general opinion on the subject, probing minds gave him no pleasure, on the contrary. The act itself was quite easy for him, but, sometimes, there were some undesired collateral results. Also it was a two-lane road. Luckily for him, few could take advantage of that.

Delving into Poe’s mind would be tricky. Best case scenario, it would be full of images that resembled too much his past life. As predicted, once he was in, he was flying an X-Wing at full speed, not in combat, just for the fun of it. _He shouldn’t be allowed to waste any more fuel,_ said a male voice. _The resources of the Resistance are limited._ Someone else disagreed, a woman whose voice he didn’t hear in a long time. _He may meet his doom on Jakku. Let him have some fun._ And then, Poe’s voice. _Hey, guys, I still can hear you!_

“Where is it?” Ren asked, in a menacing tone. It was too easy to lose track. He had to focus. 

“The Resistance will not be intimidated by you,” the prisoner said boldly. He resisted hard, messing up his own thoughts; a smart move that would only bring him more pain. 

Ren entered his mind further and this time he felt younger, a cadet waving enthusiastically an outdated datapad to a gray-haired man in a New Republic uniform. _Have you seen those maneuvers? Those scores? Who is this Anakin? Why have I never heard of him? He was the best pilot EVER!_ And the sad look the old man gave him. _He’s the one who became Darth Vader. You may learn from this data if you will, but you should never say the birth name of that monster again._

“Where. Is. It?” 

Poe was sobbing now, but still fighting. Enough was enough. Ren’s mind tightened his vicious grip around his victim’s; to the point both of them could no longer breathe. Poe was sent back to Tuanul village, on planet Jakku, to the exact moment Ren wished to see. He did something with the data storage unit San Tekka gave him, but the last piece of memory was still clouded. Someone was unconsciously helping him to conceal it, from a distance. Someone untrained, but strong with the force, who cared a great deal for that brave-but-stupid pilot. Ren knew that even he couldn’t carry it on much longer. Time for Poe and his not so mysterious guardian to learn how it felt to be mind-raped by a monster. 

It didn’t take more than an instant. Poe Dameron screamed loud enough for the whole ship to hear before passing out. 

Ren opened the door. General Hux looked livid, but with a hint of an I-told-you-so smirk on his face.

“It’s in a droid. A BB unit.”

“Well then, if it’s on Jakku, we’ll soon have it.”

“I leave that to you.”

As soon as he reached his quarters, Ren elected another panel to be torn apart by his saber. A part of him knew it was an unacceptable act of foolishness, but, sometimes, it was all that kept him from doing the same to himself. 

 

// Finalizer # Shift 21.2 //

As if he didn’t have enough problems with a brand new battle station to operate, a deserter from his supposedly perfect conditioning program and a missing droid, Kylo Ren apparently decided to leave his contribution to chaos. Hux stared at lieutenant Mitaka, as he described the attack he suffered a couple of hours ago, while delivering to that maniac some bad report about that accursed map. He really didn’t have time for that kind of schoolyard drama, but news traveled fast aboard a starship. Now he was stuck in his office, dealing with the whole committee. 

“He slashed at the desk and the consoles with that weapon, sending sparks everywhere. Then he asked me if there was anything else. I mentioned the girl the preliminary reports mentioned, the one who supposedly helped FN-2187 escape again with the droid. I knew I shouldn’t tell him unconfirmed news, but he’s a mind reader, isn’t he? So, he lifted me with the force, I was pulled towards him through the air and he grabbed my neck.”

“Did he choke you?” Hux asked; a little concerned about that specific detail.

“Not exactly. He held me by the neck but most of my weight just wasn’t there. It helped, I think.”

Hux looked over Mitaka's shoulder, to Colonel Mallin.

“It's true,” said Mallin. “He was hurt anyway. Nothing serious, thankfully, but that was quite a grip.” 

“Go on.”

“He kept me immobilized for about five seconds more, then he released me. I fell to the floor. In an instant he was not there anymore. That's when Captain Phasma found me and helped me to the medbay.” 

“I know it's not my place to interfere on this matter, sir, but something must be done before we have another Darth Vader chocking officers to death whenever he pleases,” said Phasma.

“What do you suggest exactly, captain? You are aware that he's above the disciplinary regulation.” 

“We can show him some might too. He's got abilities we must respect, it’s true, but he's not a God. First Order officers cannot be threatened by someone who’s supposed to be an ally. That's bad for morale.”

“Are you serious?” intervened Mallin. “Even if you manage to hit him back, what happens next? He’s not Vader. We should talk to him. I can talk to him, if you agree.” 

Hux had the impression the old man wanted to say ‘if you're too afraid to do so’ instead of ‘if you agree’. 

Phasma's idea was out of question, for obvious reasons. Given the actors in play, there were just two reasonable courses of action: talking to Leader Snoke or to Kylo Ren. He had to keep in mind though, that, in less than a day's time, men under his command had managed to desert the First Order, help an important prisoner to escape and, last but not least, lose track of a single harmless droid in the middle of a desert. So, complaining to Leader Snoke about his apprentice behavior under those circumstances seemed heavily inadequate.

“I'll talk to him,” Hux announced. “Apparently, it's the only thing I can do. Is the comm to his quarters still malfunctioning?”

“Yes, sir”, answered Mikata. His voice still sounded rough. 

“Tell the crew to let me know if anyone sees him. In the meanwhile, Lieutenant Mikata, you come with me to the Starkiller Base, so that you won’t have to meet him sooner than necessary.” 

Hux didn't know whay he wanted to spare Mikata. Brendon Hux would have punished any officer who displayed such lack of guts. Fortunatly to Mitaka, Hux wasn't his father and he didn't have any more time to waste with that matter. In a few hours he would be leaving the Finalizer for a nonspecific period of time and dealing with Ren was enough mess.

Despite the nature of the individual involved, Hux wasn't alarmed. As far as he knew, he was still in Snoke's good graces and, after two years of insane work, the Starkiller Base’s weapon was ready for its first test. That meant the odds were still in his favor. Theoretically.

It was time to test if the rumor about Kylo Ren’s quarters not having a lock code were true. Somehow, it didn't surprise him to find out it was accurate.

“Ren”, he called, leaving the exit door half-opened. “It's General Hux. I need to talk to you.” 

The first thing he noted was that the comm panel by the entrance had been recently destroyed. No wonder it didn’t work, but at least the lights adjusts were intact. He passed through the modest hall and found himself looking inside one of the adjoining chambers. 

"What the..." he whispered, upon seeing the grotesque helmet previously owned by Darth Vader. Another rumor turned to be true, apparently. It stood over a balcony, near a couch. There was something else there, a small table. Hux didn’t need to come closer to realize it was covered with ashes. He preferred not think about it.

“Ren,” he tried again. “Are you in there?”

Convinced that he was alone, he entered the next chamber. It was when his blood froze. All the walls, panels and furniture had been slashed to pieces. The damage Ren did to the ship’s console before assaulting Mikata was nothing compared to it. 

Hux regretted his decision, badly. The man who did such a thing was beyond reasoning. He returned to the hall, rushing to leave.

“You have guts. I give you that,” said Ren. 

He was standing by another entrance, fully dressed in his dreadful black layers and mask. 

“We need to talk,” Hux said, quite steadily, considering the circumstances. “I’m leaving to Starkiller soon. I didn’t mean to intrude, but since you don’t keep a comm and the one installed here was disabled, this was the only way.” 

“Don't tell me you came here to take a stand in behalf of one of your pet lieutenants. As much as they mean to you, chivalry doesn't suit you.” 

Hux already expected to hear something like that. Ren was starting to be predictable. Good. “I’m not come here to fight. There's just too much going on. But, yes, I came mainly because of what you did to Lieutenant Mikata. However, there’s something I have to say first,” he paused. He wanted Ren to decide if he was going to listen or not. As he remained silent, Hux proceeded. “That occasion I demanded you to wear a tracker on your belt, I was deliberately trying to give you a hard time. I was displeased that we met under awkward circumstances, although I’m obviously the one to blame for that, so I decided to show you your place in the crudest manner I could think at the time. It was childish and unfit of an Order’s high ranking officer, and I apologize for that.” Hux paused again, but Ren didn’t even move. Was he surprised? Angry? Bored?

“So, because I felt I didn’t behave well, I didn’t mind too much the fact that you used those powers of yours on me at the time. I was not hurt by it, and maybe, I thought, you did that instead of doing something worse, and I knew you could do worse. You see, at the Academy I attended as a young man, we had this class, it was called Damage Control. Roughly, we were taught how to handle things after all went wrong. I was pretty good at it, actually. And it’s all I remember when I have to deal with you. Your very presence causes damage, even when you do nothing. Thanks to you, I must lead a crew that’s slowly being incapacitated by fear. Fear spreads, Ren. Don’t make it worse than it already is.”

“You’re not afraid of me,” he simply stated. 

“No. I know you can snap fingers and send me through the airlock anytime, but no. You know why? Because it doesn’t take all that. A single shot would do it and I live around forty thousand men with blasters fully charged.”

Ren seemed to be about to say something but he suddenly stopped. “Leader Snoke is calling for us.”

Hux’s comm started to buzz almost at the same time. “We must go then,” he said. 

“I hope you keep the bravado, general. I sense he is most displeased.”

Hux knew it to be truth. There were lots of mistakes for him to take responsibility for. Still, the weapon was ready. And if he managed to face the beast inside its nest, there was nothing he couldn’t fix. 

 

// Starkiller Base # Shift 10.3 //

“This scavenger, resisted you?”

“She's strong with the Force, untrained, but, stronger than she knows,” Ren tried to explain, unfamiliar to the sound of his own voice without the mask.

It was not all. The scavenger was the same child he kept having visions about. He had not been able to search her mind beyond a certain point, but he knew. First the awakening, then another of Skywalker's dirty little secrets emerging from the void. That couldn’t be a coincidence.

“And the droid?”

Ren hesitated. Once Snoke knew the truth, he’d understand that he had not only wanted the map for himself, but that he had deliberately disregarded First Order’s best interests on the matter. 

“Ren believed it was no longer valuable to us.” Ren turned back to peek at Hux’s quick approach. No time to put his mask back on. And that was not even the worst part of what his presence represented at the moment.

Hux stood beside him, not quite daring to stare at Ren’s bare face. The general was no sensitive, but he could feel the other man's uneasiness all the same. And he was not done with stating his failure. 

"He said that the girl was all we needed. As a result, the droid has most likely been returned to the hands of the enemy. They may have the map already."

Snoke was visibly furious.

"Then the Resistance must be crushed before they get to Skywalker."

"We tracked their reconnaissance ship to the Ileenium system. Soon we’ll have the precise location."

"Good. There’s no time to waste. Prepare the weapon. Destroy the whole system."

For an instant, Hux seemed to consider a reply. Destroying another galactic system so soon after the obliteration of the Hosnian system sounded drastic even to him. Still, he chose to comply and take his leave. Ren refused to acknowledge him, but sensed his victorious smirk anyway.

In fact, he also couldn’t quite understand his master’s decision. That weapon had been revealed to the whole galaxy. Surely the Resistance would not just stand and watch. That order was not about defeating a military threat. It was a last desperate attempt to destroy the map to Skywalker. "Supreme Leader. I can get the map from the girl. I just need your guidance, "he pleaded, as if he still could convince his master to assist him with the scavenger’s unique mental barriers. 

"If what you say about this girl is true, bring her to me."

A soon as Ren stepped outside the assembly hall, he felt something was off. Returning to the holding cell only confirmed what he already knew. The girl had used the Force to escape. General Hux was to blame for that, he thought, for insisting on using brainwashed soldiers unable to resist the most basic mind tricks. He ignited his lightsaber and sliced the interrogation chair to pieces, sending its debris everywhere. It made him feel better, but not much.

He sensed she was looking for a hangar, for a ship she could use to flee from the base. She would try the same trick again and Ren knew she would be successful if she did. So, he ordered an entire division to search for her. That would make it more difficult for her to find a solitary trooper to control. He also commanded all the hangars to be put on lock-down, just in case.

As he walked the broad hallways of Starkiller Base, he pushed himself to focus on her location. It felt harder than usual, but it was a matter of time. 

And then he stopped, dazed. A spacecraft had just crashed about five miles from Precinct 47. Han Solo was in it.

He had come for the Resistance. For the woman he still loved. For the girl. And for his long lost son. 

Ren had his orders. _Bring her to me,_ said his master. But instead, his search shifted targets.

“Shall we notify Captain Phasma, sir?” asked the snowtrooper squad leader, once he ordered him to search for the crashed freighter. 

“No.” 

It was a bad decision and he knew it. As an ally of the First Order, he should warn them about the trespassers at once. But if he did, General Hux would take charge of the capture and that was the last thing he wanted at the moment.

The Millennium Falcon didn’t look exactly the same Ren remembered. It was even older and patched up. _What a junk,_ whispered one of the troopers. Apparently, Han Solo’s most prized possession still had that effect on people. 

Ren knew the troopers would find no one inside. He took the time to consider if he should get in. If he couldn’t do it, better to let Hux take care of the problem. 

“The ship is clear,” announced one of the troopers once he was inside.

 _The dark side and the light,_ he heard it in his head in his first steps aboard. _You’ve made of both, Kylo Ren._ The echo of master’s voice. It reassured him somehow.

He needed to focus. There were three of them. Han Solo, the traitor and the wookiee. They were up to something, of course. That wasn’t a scout mission. He had to concentrate harder.

 _In order for that amount of power to be contained, that base would need some kind of thermal oscillator,_ said a man to Han Solo earlier that day. That was it. There was no rescue mission either, not to Han Solo, as much as FN-2187 believed otherwise. It was a suicidal attack. 

Precinct 47. That’s where the oscillator was. He should advise--

So it engulfed him again. In his bewilderment, he had entered the ship’s cockpit, a big mistake. Too much light in there. He tried to block it with all his might, but the pull was too strong. He had to lean on the pilots seats for support. He closed his eyes.

It started. 

_Kid, I’ve flown from one side of the galaxy to the other, I’ve seen a lot of strange stuff, but I’ve never seen anything that can make me believe that one powerful Force’s controlling everything,_ he watched Han Solo say, in a youthful tone, to an even younger Luke Skywalker. 

Sensing his estranged father through the force, his former master answered, sounding a bit older and rather somber. _I'm endangering the mission. I shouldn’t have come._

There was a chill, then some kind of hollowness. He opened his eyes to see his own much smaller hands, no gloves, no callouses, none of the tiny burns he suffered while learning to master his unstable lightsaber. _No,_ he pleaded. _Anything but this._

_So that's where you hide? In this garbage?_ The apparition said, amused, the edges of his black robes fading in a bluish gleam. _Who are you?_ He heard himself ask with an alien childish voice. _Don't be afraid. I’m a friend. You can call me Ani._

It was darker now. 

_No, Luke._ Han Solo shouted, visibly shaken. _Ben's a good kid, if you had met me at his age, you'd know. He can’t be blamed his whole life for having my plebeian blood on his veins._ An older Luke shook his head, looking even sadder than before. _It’s not you, my friend. There's too much Vader in him._ And Han Solo, not so bold anymore. _I’d give everything for him to be normal._

Then all went cold and he felt weak and numb, lying on the ground like a broken thing. Through blurred eyes, he saw four white figures approach. The sky felt heavy above him, almost crushing. Sparks danced through the gelid air. General Hux looked at him. _Wake up, Ren,_ he said. _They’re here. It’s over._

And he snapped out of it. He left the ship just to find out what he expected. The shields of the base were down. The X-Wing squad approached. 

Hux was right. It was over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is about twisting the movie plot to fit a fanfic. Shouldn't it be the other way around?


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starkiller's aftermath. Hux's got a new mission and he doesn't like it.

“Supreme Leader, the fuel cells have ruptured. The collapse of the planet has begun,” said General Hux. He still managed to keep himself together, but that had never been so hard.

“Leave the base at once and come to me with Kylo Ren. It is time to complete his training.” That was it. No word about the base, the crew, nothing. Only Kylo Ren.

As soon as he left the assembly room, he grabbed his comm. It took him two or three seconds to stead his voice. “Colonel Datoo, it’s General Hux. The base is to be evacuated immediately. The Finalizer will be on hold as much as it’s possible. Get my shuttle ready with a unit of stormtroopers. I’ll be in touch.” 

Soon after, the alarms sounded. He ran to the hangar the fast he could, consumed by anger and grief, ignoring the destruction and screaming around him. Lieutenant Mikata passed by him, holding a long piece of metal that Hux soon noticed to be an improvised staff. The young man was alone trying to use it as a lever in order to move some pile of remains that blocked the access hall to the dormitories. His selfless efforts were too much for Hux to ignore.

“Are you deaf?” Hux grabbed his arm. “Go to the shuttles!”

“They are still in there, sir,” Mikata said, almost in tears.

Hux took a quick look at the debris and at the crushed bodies beneath them. A blond man seemed to stare back at him with dead eyes. He recognized him immediately. It was Lieutenant Mozell.

“They’re gone. You come with me.”

They were running out of time. The ground trembled again, harder this time. More of the base structure detached from the walls, falling around them. The officers stumbled in their way to the shuttle, but they accomplished getting in.

“To the Finallizer, sir?” asked the pilot.

“No, fly towards Precinct 47,” he said, reaching for his pad. He had to see the failure for himself while looking for Ren. 

“But, sir, the oscillator—”

“Do as I say, dammit!” he shouted. The pilot complied and went to the cockpit. The shuttle took off almost instantaneously.

Hux frenetically searched through the data in his pad, hoping Ren still had the belt' sensor, while receiving the first reports from the Finalizer crew. He should be commanding his men along that awful crisis. That was all wrong.

“What are we doing, sir?” asked Mikata, in a quiet voice.

“Rescuing Kylo Ren. Or getting ourselves killed in the process.” He blinked, almost unbelieving. The bastard kept the sensor and he was, by chance or not, very near the oscillator. He sent the coordinates to the cockpit and ordered the pilot to land.

“Where was he all this time?” 

Hux noticed Mikata’s right arm was covered in blood. “How the fuck would I know?” Under other circumstances Hux would be censoring himself for cursing too much. “He was busy with his own agenda, as it seems.” 

_But he did come near the oscillator_ , Hux repeated to himself. He didn’t want to believe that Ren might have had some early knowledge about the attack and did nothing about it. Not even Ren could be so egoistical and dense. 

“We’re the closest to the spot as possible, sir,” announced a trooper. “The shuttle is landing, but the ground is extremely unstable.”

“Good. Get four men, I’m going with you.”

Hux gave Mikata a small pistol blaster he kept in an inside pocket, just in case. "If they try to take off before we come back, shoot to kill."

"Yes, sir."

As soon as they left the shuttle, Hux started to follow the signal. Ren should be near. It was colder outside than he expected, even though hot larva seemed to come out the ground everywhere. The earth trembled again. There was a huge abyss ahead, expanding in an alarming rate. A buzzing noise called their attention, then a light. Another ship was departing from a spot near where they stood. That was unexpected. 

“Your orders, sir?” asked one of the troopers. 

“There’s no time. Let them go.”

Something sunk inside Hux. He recognized that ship, the most celebrated flying garbage of the galaxy. It all made sense. The droid had been in Han Solo’s possession earlier. 

They went back to their search. Hux stopped the moment he spotted the dark form ahead of him. The troopers surrounded the man lying on the ground, but they didn't dare to come too close.

"He's not with his mask, sir. Seems alive but unconscious."

"Are you waiting for the planet to crumble? Get him and let's go back."

"Yes, sir."

It took the courage of all the four of them to lift Kylo Ren.

Hux turned around, too worried, cold and angry to give a second look at his task's object. He stepped on something. It was Ren's lightsaber, or what was left of it. He got it in the pocket he kept his blaster.

Everything trembled again, much harder this time. The explosion near the oscillator was so intense that, for a moment, the night looked as bright as daylight. 

"Hurry!"

The shuttle took off before the ramp was fully closed. Hux ordered the troopers to lay Ren on a cot at the bottom of the ship and leave him there. It would take less than a half an hour for them to reach the Finalizer, but it wasn’t fast enough. Hux contacted the warship and ordered it to leave Starkiller's orbit. He established new coordinates and transmitted to all crafts escaping the planet's imminent collapse. Other First Order vessels were sending messages, his comm didn't stop buzzing. Hux was glad he had dragged Mikata along. His help was more than welcome.

They entered lightspeed a second before the final wave of destruction disintegrated all it touched. The shuttle rocked like it was about to be kicked adrift, but somehow the pilot managed to get back in course. Hux should give him a promotion for that. Once the systems came back, Hux resumed going through the updates and messages. 

"Shouldn't we check on him, sir?" asked Mikata.

"We don't have the time. He's the Force’s special boy, he'll survive."

"He's wounded." Mikata glanced at the blood spots on floor.

"Do you want me to send you there to hold his hand?"

"No, sir."

"So shut up and get me the Enforcer's commander."

It took the shuttle two hours to reach the Finalizer. Hux was beyond anxious. The place was an overwhelming mess and, once he stepped outside the shuttle, he was immediately consumed by the aftermath of Starkiller's demise. The Finalizer had sustained some damage due to the planet's explosion, but apparently nothing too severe. All the ships that successfully fled the base had already landed or were about to land. The officers at the bridge struggled with the new all at once demands. The medbay was overcrowded and so were the hangars. Hux ordered the pilots to fly around for a while to make room for the crafts of the remaining escapees. 

Colonel Mallin, who had been previously advised that Kylo Ren needed assistance, decided to give him first aid on the shuttle. Hux didn’t care. He considered this particular assignment done on his part.

According to the orders delivered by Hux while he was still on his way, the assembly hall was ready at his arrival. Usually, Leader Snoke was his sole holo partner, but this time, ten of the First Order’s finest waited for him.

They spoke of war. Of delivering a quick and brutal attack against the Resistance base at the Ileenium system. Of conquering Coruscant in a single vicious strike. Hux’s presence, however, made them change focus. They made questions the Starkiller commander didn’t know how to respond. Had the planet no shields? How could the Resistance know so much about the base if even they knew close to nothing? Was it true that Han Solo himself lead the Resistance attack?

The holo image of a new speaker appeared just beside Hux. She was wearing a dark cowl, hiding his eyes and nose. Hux had never met her 'in person', but he knew well enough who she was, one of the First Order most devoted spies, a female mercenary known as Bazine Netal.

"We've intercepted Resistance communications," Netal announced. "Han Solo is dead. He was killed on Starkiller Base, circumstances are unknown so far, but the Millennium Falcon fled before the planet's collapse with Solo's wookie partner, the former stormtrooper FN-2187 and a prisoner, a scavenger from Jakku captured by the First Order on Tokodana. What was left of the New Republic fleet is, we believe, about to gather under General Organa's command. We also believe that Solo's fate may trigger some strong reaction against the Order. Outer Rim contacts reports that even his enemies, like the Hutts and the Guavians, honor him in death."

"So you're saying we made a martyr out of a common thief?" asked one of the officers, a blond woman in her late thirties.

"Yes," confirmed Netal. "That can be the case."

"General Hux, is there anything you can tell us about this splendid disaster?"

"I wouldn't call the destruction of the Hosnian system and most of the New Republic military assets a disaster," retorted Hux. He had not lied when he told Ren he was good at damage control. The worse things got, the cooler he performed. No co-commander would be given the taste to watch him lose face. "But, yes, there were some if not many misfortunes that operated against us those last few days. I'm not proud that I still don't have all the answers you require from me. At the moment, I don't even know how many of my officers have survived. But so far, I can tell you that the Starkiller's ruin was not caused by some random, underestimated act of war, but by an act of inner sabotage."

"Are you implying betrayal, general?" asked the same woman.

"I know for a fact that the shields were lowered by one of my most trusted Captains and that this same officer, as it seems, had previously failed to notify us that a ship, that we now know to be the Millennium Falcon, had penetrated the planet's atmosphere unnoticed."

“And where is this officer?”

“Dead, I suppose. I don’t—”

Supreme Leader Snoke’s holo image started to take shape. All eyes turned to the huge chair and the decaying form sitting on it.

“You did well to reunite the commanders, General Hux. Despite all this misfortune, you’ve kept your sharp efficiency, even under the most displeasing circumstances. I was not wrong to favor you.”

“Supreme Leader, I’m afraid he must take action—”

Snoke lifted his right hand and all the other transmissions instantly froze. Once again, there were just two speakers in play.

“Have you found him?” asked Snoke. “Is he alive?” There was some heavy anxiety in his voice, like if he had never been disconnected from his disciple before. 

“Yes, I’ve found him. He’s alive.” 

“Good. The map to Skywalker is in the hands of the Resistance as we speak. The last Jedi will return and he won’t be alone. Kylo Ren is to be delivered to me at once.”

Hux frowned. The First Order was in the verge of war and Leader Snoke was still only worried about that useless minion of his? 

“I’m afraid to inform that he is injured, but he’s receiving medical help as we speak.”

“There’s no time, general. Once Skywalker returns, Kylo Ren will be the only one able to stop him. You have three days to get him on his feet and bring him to me.”

“Supreme Leader, we were discussing—”

“War! The First Order’s war against the Resistance. But there’s a greater war to be fought, general.”

“I don’t understand. Sir, I think Kylo Ren may be responsible, at least in part, for Starkiller’s destruction. I’m not calling him a traitor, that’s probably not the case, but I think he knew about Han Solo’s presence and, for some unknown reason, he chose to conceal it from us. I also believe he may have influenced one of my captains to assist him.” The unknown reason was indeed quite obvious to Hux. Leader Snoke’s untamed pet felt like covering for daddy. What he was yet to discover was Captain Phasma’s role in that mess. Had she betrayed the Order? Had she been deceived? Controlled by some force deception? 

“You’re a bright man, general. But don’t pretend to understand the mysteries of the Force. For people like you, the Force is religion or superstition or nothing at all, it’s not tangible. For beings like Kylo Ren, it’s something else entirely. I agree with your plans. The First Order must strike back, and crush what’s left of the New Republic and its acolytes. You, however, will have a larger role. You’re to help me get my apprentice ready to face Skywalker.”

Snoke waved his hand again.

“You’re saying, general,” Snoke said. The other projections came back on line. 

It was Hux who felt himself go paralyzed for a while, but he overcame it soon enough. “We must attack. Hunt them at once, before they recover from the attack to their capital. I don’t care if they have a martyr to mourn. We’ve lost a base. They’ve lost everything.”

“Yes," replied Snoke. "You have my approval to engage war against those bandits. The Finalizer, however, will attend another mission, according to my instructions. ”

For the sake of hierarchy, Hux stayed till the end of the conference. Leader Snoke made his new assignment sound like an honor, but he felt disgraced. Luckily, however, it seemed to have reinforced his position among his fellow commanders. No one dared to question him again.

He had to prepare his ship for the new task. The Finalizer’s extra weight would soon be transferred to the Enforcer and to the Order’s base at Rakata Prime. Hux had three days. He would make it work.

Arriving at the bridge, Hux was told that Captain Phasma had also escaped. She was in the last craft from Starkiller, with three of her underlings. He ordered their immediate arrest. 

Captain Phasma, on the contrary of the general belief, wasn’t some glorified trooper. She was a First Order officer, who had attended the same onboard Academy as Hux, although they were not classmates. Her attachment to field work, however, separated her from her former colleagues, and most did think of her as some kind of drop off, which she was not. All of this had never bothered Hux, though. He was not lying when he said she was one of his most trusted officers. 

There were several registered calls from Colonel Mallin for him, but no messages from him, which meant that whatever it was it was not supposed to be on record. Hux set the course to Rakata Prime and ordered Captain Phasma’s inquiry to be put on hold. That was something he wanted to do himself. The bridge still looked like a warzone, with exhausted officers and techs sleeping on the floor and on their station’s consoles, but at least things seemed to be getting in some sort of order. On his way to the hangar, Hux saw two junior officers hugging, no romance implied. One of them was visibly in tears, crying for someone who didn’t make to the Finalizer. The melodrama reminded him of Mozell. Should he be grieving for him? He took a second glance. Brendon Hux would have his cadets whipped to death for less. Luckily for them, he was not like him. 

When Hux arrived at his command shuttle, a medical droid welcomed him, explaining that Colonel Mallin had to check other patients at the medbay. 

“How long to his recover?” Hux asked bitterly, making clear that he didn’t care to know what sort of damage Ren sustained. Unfortunately for Hux, medical droids were much like protocol droids. Once they spoke, it was impossible to get them to shut up. 

“I’m obliged to inform you that Commander Kylo Ren received several wounds in the last twelve hours. He was shot on his left side by what we imagine to be a much potent blaster rifle, not compatible with First Order or New Republic weaponry. It skipped his major organs, thankfully, but he’s lost some tissue and too much blood, which seems to be our main concern at the moment. Also, his attire was soaked in snow for a long time, so we’re still struggling with aftereffects of hypothermia. There’re also some ugly skin lacerations, all cauterized, one on his left thigh, one on his right arm, another in his left arm, a fourth on his right shoulder and the last one, oh my, across his face. He’s very unresponsive too, even when awake. Master Mallin believes he endured a great deal of psychological stress aside the physical one. On the other hand, he’s a young human male, 29 to 30 years old, slightly malnourished, but with an exceptional body structure, no previous history of sicknesses or metabolic disorders, according to our readings, which in quite rare among First Order personnel. So, considering his overall condition I’d say at least two weeks to a complete recovery.”

“You have three days. Orders from Supreme Leader Snoke. I don’t care what you do, just get him back on his feet.”

“But, sir, I don’t think it’s possible.”

“As I said, this deadline is unnegotiable.”

“Oh, I must talk to Master Mallin about this. There’s the problem with his removal too. This place is far from adequate, but there’re just too many people at sickbay. Master is afraid it won’t be private enough for him. Would you like to see him now? He’s sleeping, but it is okay if you do.”

“Why not?”

Hux didn’t like the smell of bacta, but for all he was going through, he thought it’d be nice to see Ren’s ruined face. He remembered he had surprised him unmasked during an audience with Leader Snoke at Starkiller, just before his whole word literally crumpled around him. He couldn’t get a good view, but the little he peeked, he disliked at once: a wild mane of black hair, totally inappropriate and against regulation, and a big outstanding nose.

For some reason, those were not his impressions this time. Although Ren’s left right cheek and neck were partially covered with bacta patches and despite the fact that he did have quite a mane and a big nose, there was nothing wrong with his features. Much on the contrary, there was some odd grace in them. Actually, the face under the mask looked almost innocent, a trait Hux didn’t expect to find out and that now that he did, he wished he hadn’t. Hux had thought Ren’s disfigured face would be a good memory to keep, maybe the closest thing he would get to revenge, but all he felt at the moment was that Starkiller base had taken maybe too much from both of them.

“Don’t worry, general,” said the droid, “he will be fine.”

“I’m not worried.” _Do I look worried?_ he asked himself. The smell of bacta was making him sick. 

As he turned to leave, Hux felt lightheaded. He blinked a couple of times before finding himself on a passenger seat near the cockpit, with Colonel Mallin staring at him.

“Don’t try to stand just yet,” Mallin said.

“Did I pass out?” Hux asked, still dizzy. 

“Not quite, but you’re running out of fuel. Here,” Mallin gave him a brown energy pudding. “It tastes awful, but it will do for now.”

Hux didn’t feel like eating, but he took a vexed bite. His comm buzzed.

“I have to go.”

“Sure, if you want the crew to see you hit the floor. They won’t die if you’re delayed for ten minutes. The worst has passed, general. Considering the enormity of the chaos, you did well. We all did.”

“Don’t patronize me.”

“I didn’t.”

Hux took a second bite, almost hating himself for it. “You have to fix Ren in three days, you know.”

“MB-41 told me. It’s not possible, even if I could put him under bacta immersion. You saw him. Did he look to you like he’ll be ready for some sparring session in three days?”

“We’re about to engage war against the New Republic and the Resistance. Leader Snoke believes he must be ready in three days to resume his training, ‘cause the almighty First Order won’t stand a fucking chance when the ghost of Skywalker returns from the dead. He’s only one man and as far as I know, he enjoys being a walking freakshow, so replace his whole body if you have to, I don’t care. Now if you excuse me, I have work to do.”

Hux left the hangar with precise, firm steps. Unlike Ren’s, his mask was fully back on.

“What did he mean, Master?” asked the droid.

“Like father, like son. I guess that’s what he means, MB.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Captain Phasma explains herself and Hux has a very strange dream about his past.

Hux stared at the armored figure seated on the floor of a holding cell, ignoring the pain in the back of his head.

“Remove your helmet,” he ordered.

Apparently no stormtrooper had been bold enough to apply the protocol that stated that all prisoners should be unarmored and unmasked. Captain Phasma would be very angry about it, if she was not the prisoner in question.

She took off the chromed helmet and stared back at him with tired blue eyes.

Hux remembered Phasma from his academy days, vaguely. She was well known for her impressive height and wrestling skills, not anything else. He didn’t even recall she was a blondie. As time went by, Phasma became the commander of all First Order troopers, a decision Hux had supported back then, based on her grit and loyalty to the Order. He always believed himself to be a good judge of character. That was probably the reason why that inquiry felt so wrong even with the evidences against her.

“Do you know why you’re here,” he asked.

“Yes, sir, I do.”

“Tell me.”

“I disabled the Starkiller’s shields.”

“And why did you do that?”

“I was attacked by FN-2187, Han Solo and his wookiee partner near the command central. I considered resisting them, but I believed that once I disabled the shields, we would be spotted and troopers would be sent and those thugs would be captured. I was wrong. I know that now. I deserve to be here.”

“So after they got from you what they wanted, what did they do?”

“They threw me in a garbage compactor,” she said. “Solo’s idea and FN-2187 knew exactly where to find one. When I got out, the evacuation alarms were sounding. I just had time to help myself and two troopers I found on the way to the nearest shuttle. They told me it was the last one that made it.”

She had a point. But now that the Starkiller was gone, it’d be almost impossible to know why it took so long for techs to find out about the shields.

“We know that Kylo Ren put a whole division in pursue of the Jakku girl after she miraculously evaded from her cell.” 

“That’s correct. That was the last notification I received before I was attacked. I thought it was too drastic to mobilize a whole division for a single girl, but those were Ren’s orders, so I simply ratified it.”

“But soon after, Kylo Ren extended his search to Precinct 47.”

“The oscillator? So that’s why it exploded?” She looked surprised. 

“I’m the one who makes the questions, captain.”

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“I assume you know nothing about that.”

“My comm didn’t operate inside the trash compactor. Even after I got out, there were dozens of calls and messages, but nothing related do Precinct 47. I checked all of them on my way here. The guards have my comm. Techs must be doing the same thing now.”

She knew the protocols. Of course all her communications were being checked. 

“Captain, did you by any chance omit that a starship passed through our sensors and crashed near Precinct 47? Under Ren’s orders maybe?”

“No, the First Order is my life. I’d never do such a thing, even if Ren had told me so.”

“You are the sole commander of the stormtroopers. It’s your job to know their whereabouts. We know now that a unit was moved to the oscillator.”

“I wasn’t notified,” she retorted. “Sir, information can be kept from me. I’m not force sensitive.”

“I suppose you’re not.”

“I’m telling the truth. I require to be interrogated by Ren if that’s what takes to prove my full commitment to the Order.” 

“And why do you think he’d do to you such a favor?”

“I don’t. But I’m willing to submit to whatever measures you see fit to prove that I’ve failed but that I haven’t betrayed the Order.”

Hux left her. If she was telling the truth, then Ren was the only one to deliberately help the enemy. 

Soon they’d be reaching Rakata’s Prime orbit. Hux had never felt so exhausted in his life. He had to sleep. No energy pudding would help if he kept it like that.

“Sir,” called a stormtropper who was guarding the cells. “ST-5263, one of the troopers arrested with Captain Phasma, claims that he was in the oscillator under Kylo Ren’s orders. Forgive me to address you, but I think it is important to help captain prove her innocence.”

First a deserter, then a thinker with some sense of personal loyalty. The stormtrooper program definitely needed some updates. 

“Take me to him.”

Inquiring troopers was way beneath his rank, but Hux was just too tired to care.

The cell the trooper was in was much smaller than Phasma’s. The man had been stripped of his armor and helmet. Although Hux had worked on the trooper’s design for years, that was the first time he saw the adult face of one of them in person. The prisoner was about twenty-five years old and he was also a redhead. He seemed smart, too much like any junior officer aboard. 

“Your fellow trooper told me you have something important to say to me.”

“Yes, sir. My unit accompanied Kylo Ren to a crashed ship on Precinct 47 and then to the oscillator. We were told not to notify Captain Phasma. I believe my squad leader didn’t make it; he was killed by the wookiee, but I hope someone else survived to confirm my words.”

“You’re saying Kylo Ren ordered this mission to be kept in secrecy?”

“He didn’t tell that to me, but that’s what the squad leader told us.”

“So you went all the way to the Millennium Falcon.”

“Was that the Millennium Falcon? I-- I don’t know, sir, it was a very, very old freighter. No one was inside. Kylo Ren entered after we left. He stayed there alone for some time.”

“For how long?”

“About twenty minutes. When he left, we saw the X-Wings approaching. Then we knew the shields were down.”

“And I suppose Kylo Ren didn’t change his mind about not notifying the central.”

“Yes. We left that place straight towards the oscillator. First I stayed outside with the unit, but then we were called in. We were told to leave the winter gear, get our blasters and give chase to the Resistance fighters that managed to invade the oscillator. That’s what we did until the explosions started.”

“Was that all?”

“No, but what happened inside the oscillator was un-- unconventional, I think.””

“Go on.”

“Kylo Ren and one of the Resistance intruders had a conversation on a walkway. The man called him by another name, told Kylo Ren to take his mask off, which he did. The man asked Ren to go home. They talked about the Supreme Leader. The man said Ren was being used for his power. For a moment, we believed Kylo Ren would defect too, no one knew what to do. Then Ren killed the man with his lightsaber, just like that. So the rest of the intruders began firing at Ren, we fired back. Then everything started to explode and I used the snowspeeder to escape.”

“You know you’re not supposed to tell anyone what you’ve just told me.”

“Yes, sir. I won’t.”

“You said that man called Ren by another name. What name was that?”

“Ben. I think it was Ben.”

Hux hands were shaking by the time he left the prison. As he suspected, Kylo Ren’s deranged acts were to blame for the base’s downfall. Years of backbreaking work, tons of military equipment and the lives of hundreds subordinates lost because no planning and no industry in the whole galaxy would be ever enough to prevent the Force’s blessed monsters to ruin everything around them. 

His head was throbbing and he started to fell that damned bacta smell all over him again. 

Inside his private quarters, he let himself fall on the bed. He slept immediately.

General Hux had always been proud that he didn’t need to sleep much. Since his teens, four hours of rest every five shifts had been more than enough for him. In the past, he even pitied his fellow cadets for their painful attachment to their beds. And that was not the only aspect of sleeping he believed to be privileged by nature. Hux didn’t dream, or at least never remembered doing so. It had not always been like that though. As a child, Hux dreamed every night until everything changed and he never dreamed again.

So when he opened his eyes to find himself back on Arkanis, he thought he had died. It might have happened during Starkiller’s collapse or after his escape, it didn’t matter. If he was walking through the hallways of Moff Brandon Hux’s Military Academy under bright daylight, of course he could only be dead.

Somehow, it didn’t bother him.

He went to his room. The place looked exactly the same, a bed, a desk, a chair and a big chest, nothing else. Moff Brendon Hux believed comfort and toys made children spoiled and soft, therefore unfit to serve the Empire. From the desk drawer, he took the blaster pistol his father have had given him the day he was accepted to a First Order Academy. This time, his hands were big and steady enough to finish what he had started twenty-five years ago. If death came with the opportunity to correct past mistakes, Hux was starting to enjoy it even better.

But as he left his room, he wasn’t in his old Academy house anymore. He was in a dark place, a huge metallic structure. He was at the Starkiller’s oscillator. He tried to find a way out, to go back home, a little amazed that he actually wanted to go back there. But all he did was to walk around, as if he was trapped in a maze of corridors and catwalks. 

When he tried to cross the walkway to the other side of the oscillator’s abyss, the image of a man began to take shape before him, on the far side of the patch. Hux knew who he was even before it become clear.

Commander Brendon Hux stood there, in his old Empire uniform, staring at him.

Hux pointed his pistol towards him. 

“You’re late,” the man said. “And you still can’t pull the trigger.”

“We’ll see,” Hux answered. He had never been too proficient in hand-to-hand combat, but he did have quite an aim. 

“Go on, First Order boy,” the man teased. “Show me what you’ve got.”

Hux tried to shoot, but the blaster seemed jammed. The man approached. He was still taller than him and overall a larger man. He hasn’t aged also. The man he faced was exactly the way he remembered from his childhood and that was what scared him most.

He checked the pockets of his coat for another weapon and found one, an old and crumpled lightsaber. 

He ignited it. The reddish beam lanced outward, followed by two smaller projections at the hilt. The weapon felt light and heavy at the same time, with its sickening vibration. The man was so close now. Hux closed his eyes and pierced the figure ahead with it.

He heard a scream. But that voice didn’t belong to his adversary. 

It belonged to him.

Hux opened his eyes, startled, his brow covered in sweat. It took him more than a minute to regain his bearings. He rolled to his back and something pressed against him on the way. It was Kylo Ren’s lightsaber. He took it off his pocket, willing to toss it across the room and cursing himself for bringing it with him, but he just dropped it beside him. That dream, that silly misplaced dream could only be related to Ren’s accursed witchcraft.

He searched for his comm and almost didn’t believe when he realized he had slept for almost two entire shifts, something like seven straight hours. There were no messages, no calls, no reports. Had he looked so bad before that his subordinates decided to give him extra off-duty time?

The mirror at the bathroom answered his question. After two shifts rest, he still looked like shit. His hair was a complete mess and there were dirt and blood stains on his shamefully disheveled uniform. At least his hands were not trembling anymore and the headache was gone. 

Probably he should hurry back to the bridge or contact it to see how things were going, but instead, he activated the home droid and told him to check for updated while he bathed. 

The stupid thing seemed happy to be put to work. Hux almost never used him. Keeping droids for company was highly inappropriate among the Order’s hanks. Interacting with them or with inferior non-humanoid species more than strictly necessary could even be considered a violation to officer’s conduct code. 

“What do you have for me?” he asked, after the longest body washing session he allowed himself to have in the last decade. A brand new uniform already waited for him on his bed beside Ren’s now polished saber as well as a bowl of hot soup over the desk. Droid’s efficiency could be unnerving sometimes.

“The Finalizer will be approaching Rataka Prime’s orbit in six hours. The Enforcer will be waiting by then.”

“Messages from Colonel Mallin?”

“No, master. I’m afraid not.”

Hux didn’t realize he was so hungry. He swallowed the soup in less than five minutes, but pretended he was just in a hurry to go back to duty. He didn’t have any idea why he was trying to show the droid some coolness. It was just a droid. 

“Anything else, master?” asked the machine, with a hopeful gleam in his optics. 

“Yes,’ answered Hux, before leaving the room. “Go back offline.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://an-r-1.tumblr.com/


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hux visits Ren and tries a new approach.

After he spent the last shift overseeing arrangements to the Finalizer and Enforcer reunion, Hux headed to Hangar Two. He still didn’t believe he had suggested the medic to replace Ren’s body parts for prosthesis in order to rush his recovery. Not that Ren didn’t deserve it; he deserved far worse, actually. But that was something Commander Brendon Hux would demand if one of his precious cadets were in Ren's place and Hux was not him. He’d never be like him.

 _That’s the first problem with monsters, Hux thought_. They’re brutal and extreme in the pursuit of their twisted goals, but in the end, they fail. They always fail.

He found the command shuttle empty. It had even been cleaned of the blood spots Ren left in his way in. It took Hux absurd twenty minutes to locate Colonel Mallin and the information was labeled classified: MB009G. Ren had been moved to a restricted medic unit that was being assembled for General Dante's use before his retirement. Mallin did care for his patient privacy.

A First Order general could always summon his medical officer, but Hux felt like walking. It was time to cut the whining about everything that went wrong and to start to make things right. He’d find a way to buy Ren the time he needed and deliver him to his master as the perfectly healthy Corellian horse the med-droid said he was. Then he’d be free to go back to his duty to the First Order and put all that Force bullshit behind.

Hux had never been at MB009G. He had to admit Mallin had found Ren a good hiding place. There was only one isolation room, but it was as huge as Dante’s ego, with a brand new bacta tank adjusted for the former general’s sole use. An unforgivable waste, in Hux’s opinion, even if it could be reprogramed. The rest of the place, however, was not that impressive, but at least it didn’t smell like bacta. 

Hux found Ren in much smaller adjoined room, equipped with regular medical furnishings. He was standing beside the berth, with difficulty, but standing in those awful black pants of his. Hux couldn’t believe he was trying to put on the same clothes he wore when he was wounded. He had also ripped out of his arm whatever the medical equipment was injecting in his bloodstream. It would be unwise to surprise him, but he just couldn’t take his eyes off the man’s back. The scars of Ren’s misadventure on Starkiller were not the only ones he bore, but he had unusual broad shoulders and, overall, his pale skin looked as human as anyone else’s. Hux knew he shouldn’t be staring at him like that. Yet, he was. 

As if sensing his presence, Ren stopped his clumsy efforts all of a sudden.

“What you’re doing here?” he asked, with his own unaltered voice, not bothering to face the visitor.

“Checking how you’re doing. As you may have guessed, Supreme Leader Snoke ordered me to rescue you from Starkiller Base and to get you ready to meet him.”

“Congratulations, you did it. Now get out.”

“You don’t look ready to me. The droid told me your recovery would take two weeks. It’s been only forty-seven hours.”

“I’m not one of your lieutenants, general. Whatever you’re thinking, just stop it.”

 _How did he know?_ Hux asked himself. The fuck he was going to be intimidated by it. “Take it as a compliment, Ren,” he retorted, “Hell knows how dreadful you look in that weird costume of yours.” 

Hux noticed Ren had his left hand over the patch on his left side, the same spot the droid said it had been hit by blaster fire. The cut on his right shoulder also looked pretty deep. No wonder he was having trouble to dress himself. 

“You should lie down,” Hux advised. 

“Three days, you said. You should be glad you don’t have to wait that much.”

“Supreme Leader Snoke set the deadline, not me.”

“Whatever. Leave.”

“I’m good at what I do, Ren, no matter if I’m fond of the task or not. Everything is ruined now, thanks to you, but I’ll not deliver a crippled apprentice to Leader Snoke. Not if he believes you’re still relevant to the cause.”

“Thanks to me?” Ren turned to face him, visibly groveled. The fresh scar on his face looked like an insult. Ren should get rid of it. Not even troopers were allowed to present themselves like that under their helmets. 

“Please. Don’t pretend you didn’t know about the Millennium Falcon.”

Ren's lips parted in surprise and he looked even paler. It was not Hux’s plan to admonish him for Starkiller’s fate. That man wasn’t his own to discipline; he was fully aware of that. And yet, upon seeing him so bare and disgraced, he started to feel his own blood rushing through his veins. 

“You should have warned us,” Hux insisted, sounding harsher then he’d intended to. “You’re not an official member of the Order, but you are the disciple of the Leader of this organization and supposedly our ally. You should have warned us,” he repeated.

“Should I?” he murmured, as if not taking the statement seriously.

“The base is GONE, Ren. It exploded like a fucking bomb, taking everything I’ve worked for in the last two years with it. Our war against the New Republic was about to be won, but now we have half of the galaxy supporting the Resistance. The Order lost a ten years investment and over twenty thousand subordinates among crew, techs and troopers. And for what? So that you could—” Hux growled, too angry and embarrassed by his own lack of control.

“Say it.”

Hux hesitated. “Read my mind, if you can. I’m done with you.”

Ren came closer just like he had done the day Hux made him use a sensor on his belt. At that time, Hux couldn’t see his face, but Ren’s body language, aside the use of the Force, seemed like a sound proof of his predatory intentions. This time was different. Ren moved exactly the same, but he didn’t look murderous or edgy, just tired, maybe even a bit shaky. This, however, didn’t understate the threat he represented. If Hux backed off now, he would never be able to stand against him again. Luckily for Hux, he was tall enough not to be towered by him.

“So that you could commit some ritual patricide.” Hux let his words sink in. “Wasn’t it? In order to pursue and kill Han Solo you had to leave us in the dark until it was too late.”

Ren didn’t react at once, or the way Hux expected.

“So true,” he finally answered. He turned back towards the cot and grabbed the upper part of his attire from a nearby chair. The droid had repaired the gashes and holes in it, but it still looked ragged. 

“Great! You admit. And that’s all you have to say.”

“No.”

“No? What else then?”

“You have something that belongs to me.”

Hux sighted, glad that Ren also didn’t feel like locking horns. He knew he was talking about the lightsaber. Hux took it from his coat pocket, exactly like he did in the oscillator’s dream, a gesture that for an instant aggravated his disgust. Ren still struggled with the attire’s sleeves. Only a devoted masochist would cover fresh skin lesions with some tight crude fabric that probably had not been disinfected enough. Worse, the undershirt he did so much effort to put on only covered his arms and shoulders, nothing else. In Hux’s opinion, whoever designed that shit, either was pervert or had a fucked-up sense of humor.

But it fit Ren, he had to admit. Not even his clothes made sense.

“Here,” said Hux, presenting the weapon. “It seems broken, by the way.”

In a swift movement, Ren turned around to claim his property. It looked like he only wanted to take the saber from Hux’s hand and go back to his painful dressing session, but the moment he touched the weapon, he became inert. It happened in a lapse of two or three seconds, but it was unmistakable to Hux that something intangible had hit him hard. His pupils fully dilated, turning his hazel eyes pitch black. Ren took two unsteady steps back, visibly fighting to remain standing.

“Ren, are--” 

“Go away,” Ren cut him off.

“Are you okay? Must I call the doc?” 

Ren leaned against the bed, breathing hard, while Hux considered his next steps. His rational mind knew he should contact Mallin and leave the problem to him, but some instinct in him knew that whatever happened to Ren, it had nothing to do with the wounds he suffered. 

Maybe it was time for a new approach. 

He left his overcoat on a chair and took off his gloves. Then, he came near Ren, maybe for the first time since they met. He almost touched his shoulder, but Ren held his arm.

“No,” Ren said. It didn’t sound like a ‘stop’. It sounded like an advice, a danger sign that Hux was more than inclined to ignore. 

“I’m not afraid of you, remember?” Hux said, placing his palm over Ren’s chest. His heart was beating so fast and his skin was warm and soft, even more than Hux anticipated. _Creatures like Ren shouldn’t be allowed to be that appealing,_ Hux thought, remembering the time Lieutenant Mozel assured him all dark side enforcers looked like Emperor Palpatine. How wrong he had been. And what a waste it represented.

“Relax,” he said softly. “Now is an exception. I’m not always that nice.”

Ren let go of his arm and closed his eyes. At first glance, he looked defeated, but Hux knew better. No all defeats are a bad thing.

That was the second thing Hux knew about monsters. Sometimes they can’t resist remembering what it’s like to fell human again.

Hux sat on the cot beside Ren and pulled him slowly until his scarred back leaned against the impeccable black tunic of Hux’s uniform. The arrangement made Ren’s hair brush against Hux’s left cheek. It smelled like earth and sweat and all that is terrestrial and alien to a controlled environment, much unlike everything Hux grew accustomed to. It was crude and exquisite at the same time, but contradictions are expected from man like Ren and not all of them had to be disappointing. Hux felt himself getting hard and had to hold his breath for an instant before going on. He didn’t aim to enjoy it that much.

“Don’t think,” Hux whispered close to Ren’s right ear. The hand that lingered on his chest began to slide downwards to the tight space between Ren’s skin and his trousers. “Whatever it is, let go.”

Hux was not surprised to find out that Ren had no underwear and was already hard, very much indeed. He grabbed his cock and started to stroke it in dexterous movements up and down its considerable length. _What a big guy you are_ , he thought, before pulling his paints down, only enough to get them a little more room to play. Ren leaned heavier against him, his body burning now. If he wasn’t feverish, he’d be the hottest person Hux had ever met, in a literal sense. Ren didn’t utter a sound, but some of the smaller medical equipment in the room started to flutter. Hux moved his hand further, made it travel along his balls and the tender skin between his thighs, before he went back to that huge needy dick, fully aware of its urgencies. 

Instinctively, Hux moved backwards and spread his legs wider to help Ren find some space on the bed, in case his legs failed him. “That’s better,” Hux said, hoping that narrow structure was strong enough to support the weight of both of them. The new position favored the job and the friction between their bodies, adjusting their breathings to the same relentless pace. It didn’t take long for Hux to come inside his own pants, like horny teenager, almost at the same time he felt Ren’s body go rigid and the same hot stickiness came in contact his fingers. 

As they began to relax, Ren’s weight started to fell almost impossible for Hux to bear. He did nothing about it though. He was a junior officer the last time he spend time with a man that much bigger than him and now he knew he kind of missed it.

As if sensing Hux’s effort, Ren stood up, not daring to face him. Hux did the same, frowning at the sight of his own hand. Luckily for him, there were lots of bottles of cleaning fluid around. He cleaned himself and composedly put his gloves back on and adjusted the coat over his shoulders.

“You should stay here a little longer,” Hux said. “Wherever we’re going, I don’t believe we’ll be arriving there in less than two days.”

Ren sat on the cot with his hand back on the wound on his side. He looked better now, his flushed cheeks compensating for the paleness of his skin. 

“Why did you do that?” he asked.

 _It’s a fair question_ , Hux admitted, making a mental note that he should find a mirror and check his uniform before returning to the bridge. 

“For no reason. I felt like it and as far as I know, the Knights of Ren are not celibates. Is it incorrect?”

“No.”

“I know we’ve been on each other’s throats since we met and if it was up to me, I would have you court-martialed for your behavior at Starkiller Base, but now that you’ve became my current mission, your welfare is also my responsibility.” 

“What a committed man you are. But I don’t think Leader Snoke will promote you for that.”

“You don’t have to be rude.”

“What else would you expect from me?”

“You’re right. There's indeed a first time for everything.”

Hux was about to leave but he stopped.

“Since you’ve asked me a question, I’d like to ask you one, if you don’t mind.”

“Go on.”

“Can’t you guess?”

“There’re too many puny questions in your head.” 

“Pick one.”

“I don’t regret killing Han Solo. Satisfied?”

He was right, that was one of the many things Hux had in mind. Not the trickiest, nor the easiest. Ren could have chosen to tell him when he first met Leader Snoke or if he could lift himself in the air with the Force.

“But you would, if you’d killed that man,” Ren added.

“Thanks for the advice. That’s why you chose that question? Is it your puerile way of telling me that I’m not as tough as you.”

“No. I just want you to remember what happens to people that are nice to me.”

Hux frowned. “Noted.”

He left. He didn’t want to think about Ren anymore. Recess was over.

He met Colonel Mallin by the medbay entrance, but before he said anything, Hux told him to deliver any report about Ren’s progress at his office. Then he went back to duty, gladder than ever that he had much to do.

Hux was so upset with himself that he forgot to check his uniform.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second half of the fic begins now. Once again, sorry for grammar and spelling mistakes.
> 
> https://an-r-1.tumblr.com/


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snoke makes Hux a proposition.

_It’s almost over_ , Hux told himself the moment the Enforcer left Rataka Prime’s orbit, taking with it all the crew and equipment he managed to dismiss without derailing the Finalizer. Until he finished his mission, the Order’s war was not his own to care. He had to get used to it.

He had to get used to many things actually, including the fact that he would never feel the telluric scent of Ren’s hair anymore in his life. He deserved to miss it. So frivolous of him to give in to such an impulse.

It was not a surprise that short after the Enforcer’s departure, he was summoned to a conference with Leader Snoke. It was about time for new instructions. Hux only hoped the Supreme Leader would give him the coordinates to the ship, moon or planet where Kylo Ren was supposed to complete his bloody training and ask nothing more of him on this regard.

Only that Hux knew it wouldn’t be so simple. Nothing was ever that simple.

“General Hux,” Snoke greeted as his huge holo projection took form before the officer.

“Supreme Leader, the Finalizer is prompt, as you commanded.” He didn’t want to sound anxious.

“Good. You’ve worked well. Is Kylo Ren ready?”

“I’m sorry to inform that he’s still under medical care. My CMO reports he’s recovering fast, but if it’s important that his wounds heal properly, I believe it's for the best to give him a few days more.”

Snoke seemed to consider.

"You’ve been right all along, general. Kylo Ren failed us at Starkiller Base. And even before that, he openly disregarded my instructions on the matter of the map to Skywalker."

"I regret to hear that," said Hux, hoping his face didn't show anything near to an I-told-you-so expression. That would be too disrespectful.

"That's not all,” Snoke continued, displaying genuine concern. “He has been keeping information from me for some time, little things, but nevertheless... And now, he has shut me out completely, not entirely on purpose, I can tell, but since his defeat at Starkiller, I can barely sense him through the Force."

Hux received the news with awe. Ren was an unreliable brat, maybe even a liability, but not a traitor. "Is his loyalty compromised?" he asked.

"You know who he used to be, don’t you, general? Before he was called Kylo Ren.”

“I’m afraid I do, as many of us.”

"Ben Organa-Solo, the heir of the New Republic’s most cheered heroes. Such a privileged and spoiled child he was once. It all changed when his Force sensitivity started to show so strong and dark, so much like Lord Vader’s. I was the only one who could guide him through it and yet, he resisted me for so many years, burying himself under the pompous Jedi lore Skywalker forced upon him. As a result, he became a tardily apprentice that doesn’t fully understands his own peculiar abilities. Don’t mistake my words, general. I have no actual reasons to distrust Kylo Ren's loyalty to me. However, I suspect that his self-doubt may have led him to look for a path of his own.” Snoke paused, as if studding Hux’s silent feedback. "We cannot afford to lose him as an ally, not now that Skywalker will return and will once again attempt to restore the Jedi Order. If he succeeds, the First Order will perish.”

“So it’s time for us to make sure of our military superiority. Improve stormtroopers training, research new hardware. I’ve learned so much about weaponry while managing the Starkiller base. There’s—”

“Technology and soldiers won’t make a difference now as it didn’t make in the past, when Darth Vader betrayed and killed Emperor Palpatine, misled by his sentiments for his son.” Snoke leaned forwards, as if to take a better look at Hux’s surprised frown. “Yes, general. In the end, it was the unbalance of the Force that sealed the Empire’s fate, not a military defeat. Keep that information for yourself though. Damaging Lord Vader’s reputation wouldn’t do us any good.”

“Supreme Leader, if Vader turned against his master, how can we be sure that Ren won’t do the same?”

“As I said, there are no reasons to doubt his alliance to me. His hesitation is expected. The light is still strong in him, even now. Han Solo’s death... He was not ready for such a challenge; I see that now. Nevertheless he must finish his training and face his former master.” 

“Forgive my straightforwardness, but what are his chances of defeating the legendary Luke Skywalker if he was left to die by a former trooper and a Jedi novice?”

Snoke half-smiled. “I said Kylo Ren must face his former master, not that he must defeat him.”

“I don’t see how a Skywalker victory could bring us any advantage. Wouldn’t he be free to rebuild the Jedi Order then?”

“The day Skywalker kills his own blood; he will fall to the dark side and take his apprentices with him. It has been foreseen long ago.”

“Foreseen... So the fate of the Order lies in some prophecy.” 

“And this is unacceptable to you, I can see it.” Snoke gave him a considerate gaze and, for a moment, Hux felt more like an apprentice than a general. 

“Of course it isn’t. The Empire fell due the change of heart of a single individual. How can I accept that? The Order cannot be subjected to the whims of people like Ren.”

“How right you are. That’s exactly why I need you to assist me on this matter.” 

Hux almost took a step back. “I don’t understand.”

“I assume you’re familiar with the common knowledge about the Force.”

“Certainly.” 

“Let me explain you something, general. The dark side is not of a corrupt side of the Force, opposite to a virtuous one. That was a misconception spread by the Jedi Order through generations. The dark is nothing but a shadow cast by the light that all Force-users will eventually touch. Some are taught to reject it, some to embrace it, it doesn’t matter. But if this shadow is mastered by a gifted sensitive it can restore the balance of the Force.”

“That’s the chosen one the Jedi waited for.”

“Precisely. The Force is so uniquely strong in the Skywalker lineage, that even the Jedi believed some of them would be the one to restore the balance of the Force. They were right about that. Luke Skywalker is the one who can master the dark side and silence the Force forever.” 

“Silence the Force?”

“Yes. When the Force reaches its balance, it will be silent at last. No more awakenings or disturbances will interfere in the fate of the galaxy. You know what it means, general? Once our work is done, wars will be decided by capable man like you, not by sensitives guided by Force-induced impulses. That’s why I chose you for this mission. Help me keep Kylo Ren on track and the day this is over, you’ll become the sole leader of the organization that will rule the galaxy.”

“Me—”

“You know it’s true. That’s your destiny. When the Force is silenced, my task will be completed and the First Order will need a firm hand.” 

“How am I to accomplish that? What kind of influence I could possibly have on Ren that even his master can’t?”

“Don’t ask me what you already know. You’ll find a way, general. That’s what you’ve being doing your whole life, with a large amount of success. This is your chance to overcome the past and bring true peace and order to the galaxy. Will you take it?”

For the first time, Hux took his eyes off Snoke’s figure while talking to him. 

“Yes. I’ll do my best.”

“You’ll soon receive the coordinates to a moon located in the deeps of the Unknown Regions. That’s the place where Kylo Ren shall be sent to finish his training. You must secure his commitment to the extinction of the Jedi until then.”

“He reads minds in subtle ways too. He will know.”

“Mind control in all its forms targets the weak. He’ll only trick you if you let him, but you mustn’t underestimate his perception.”

The holo began to fade. 

For the first time, Hux lingered in the conference hall, alone, after Snoke disconnected. 

He still had a lot to do. The Finalizer had not only lost valuable assets in favor of the upcoming war. It had received some leftovers from other First Order’s ships to look upon, like damaged equipment, wounded troopers and prisoners. Still, Hux went straight back to his quarters.

He grabbed a cig and sat on the balcony near the viewport. After he loosened the collar of his uniform, he used both hands to muss his own ever well-groomed hair. The space seemed so quiet around Rakata Prime’s orbit. He didn’t remember the last time he took time to appreciate it. 

He lit the cig and fetched the golden medal he kept under his tunic. It was a small insignificant token from a time he barely remembered, before he was sent to Arkanis. But he did recall Commander Brandon Hux calling him ‘Republic boy’, before he became ‘First Order boy’. He had no idea why he still had that stupid thing or why he carried it with him, attached to a necklace. He just knew that sometimes, only sometimes, he liked to look at it. 

His comm buzzed, but he decided to ignore it for a little while. 

He activated the droid. The machine saluted him gladly and willing to serve, as it was programed to be. Hux started giving him names for a research: Kylo Ren, Ben Organa, Han Solo, Leia Organa, Luke Skywalker, Darth Vader and so forth. He had already gone through most of First Order’s archives on them, of course, but not with the needed attention. His home droid was of a humanoid design, short and bulky, proficient in housekeeping and some minor medic routines, but it was not a cataloger. Even so it had access to the ship’s mainframe and Hux had never started a job without a preliminary study. 

“Would you like me to prepare you something to eat, master?” asked the droid. His synthetized voice sounded almost concerned.

“No. But I’d like a drink.”

“Right away, master.”

Hux didn’t know what he meant; he didn’t keep a single bottle of booze since he stepped on the Finalizer. Aside General Dante’s uptight policies, he thought intoxicating beverages to be much too distracting for his taste so, although the occasion deserved a toast, stargazing would have to do it. 

“So many stars…” said the droid as he returned with a glass of Old Janx Spirit.

“Where did you get this?” asked Hux, before taking a sip.

“General Dante’s personal reserve, master,” he said. “I packed all the belongings he left behind but he never sent for them.”

“Guess that makes me his heir.” 

“Yes, master. I believe so.” The droid’s optics blinked. “The records you requested are being delivered to your datapad as we speak. Would you like me to research the Empire archives too?”

“Empire archives? You mean the recovered files?”

“No, master. The old Empire’s mainframe. Some of what’s left of it is still operational. I was given an access code, long ago, for General Dante’s use. Only former Empire officers were allowed clearance, but since you’re his heir, I believe it’s rightful yours now.”

The information the droid brought was so unexpected that Hux took some time to react. He had never heard that an Empire operating system still existed, even though, as a general, he was supposed to be given the highest level of clearance. “Yes, droid, do so.”

“This will take longer, master. No less than two hours for full access.”

“It’s acceptable. Go on.”

The droid’s chest panel started to flash, but that didn’t prevent it from glancing at the glass his master was holding. “Are we celebrating today, master?”

Hux never understood why they kept programming those things to be so sentient, but since it had provided him interesting information, he decided to indulge in some kind of friendly chit-chat.

“Sort of.”

“May I ask what the occasion is?”

“Yes. I’m soon to be promoted.”

The droid make a soft sound, like giggle. 

“Congratulations, master.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have this belief that Hux was also targeted by Snoke, not in the same way as Ren, but close enough. Both are young, very talented and estranged from their big name families. Their conferences with Snoke don't look official and Hux, as Ren, also behaves like a disciple when he's before Snoke. I may be wrong though. :)
> 
> https://an-r-1.tumblr.com/


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The consequences of his acts in Starkiller base are not the only wounds Ren has to fight in his way to recovery.

_Han Solo sat on the floor beside the boy, still with his light-brown hair and sly smile._

_“What now, kid?” he asked. He had just arrived from some racing contest. He smelled faintly like fuel, sweat and glory. For any seven years old boy, it was the scent of heroes._

_The boy looked away, not exactly ashamed. “Nothing,” he said._

_“Your mom is worried, you know. She doesn’t show it, but she is.”_

_“That’s why you came?”_

_The man frowned. “Yep.” He smiled. “For her and for a rowdy boy named Ben. Do you know him? Dark hair, big boliphant’s ears. Punched the face of a classmate yesterday.”_

_“He’s not a classmate. He’s my senior,” the boy retorted, pulling his hair to cover his ears. “And he deserved it.”_

_“I bet he did. What did they say to you this time?”_

_The boy bit his lower lip before answering, hesitating._

_“Com’on, kid. Forgot our deal?”_

_The boy remembered, of course. The day before Han Solo left home to take care of his business elsewhere, when he promised his son that even from a distance, he’d always be there for him and that they should be always true to each other._

_“He said I have a populist fool for a mother and a worthless pirate for a father.”_

_Han Solo smiled widely. “Well, he’s got it right.”_

_“Dad!”_

_“If you go on like this, there’ll never be enough faces to punch, kid.”_

_“You speak like Uncle Luke.”_

_Han Solo rolled his eyes. “No, am I getting this boring?”_

_The pout on the boy’s face disappeared._

_“No way!” Han Solo stood up and stretched his arms towards the boy, like those living dead on holo terror movies they watched together sometimes. “Come here, padawan, I’ll make a Jedi monk out of you!”_

_“No!” The boy shouted, running to the other side of the living room. “Get away! I’m too old for tickles!”_

_The man approached. They’ve played that catch-up game many times. None of them knew why they enjoyed so much to make fun of Luke and his austere Jedi ways. It was just some private joke they shared. It didn’t mean they didn’t miss him._

_Before Han Solo came any nearer, a chair moved all way across the room and crashed between them. Playtime was over. The man looked at the chair, then at the boy, no kind of smile on his face this time._

_“Please,” the boy pleaded. “Don’t tell mom.”_

_The boy didn’t do that on purpose, they both knew it. But it was not for the fate of a wrecked chair that Han Solo feared._

_“I’m sorry, kid. She’s always known.”_

Kylo Ren opened his eyes to find himself sprawled on the cot, in the same medbay room, still half dressed. He remembered talking to the medic but he didn’t remember falling asleep after he’d gone. It was not a surprise though. Since the Starkiller disaster, he had slept most of time and Han Solo had been in all his dreams, to the point it didn’t bother him so much anymore. No light in it, only remaining memories from another life. For all his failures, it’s was a mild and somewhat silly punishment. Nothing compared to the sinking feeling that followed once he was awaken, when the image of Han Solo falling in the oscillator pit replayed in his mind. Even the foolish doctor in all his blessed ignorance had noticed it; he had even given it names. Said he might be depressed or with post-traumatic stress. His concerns were annoying and useless, but then again, what could that man know about the ways of the Force? 

He inspected the bandage on his side. The bowcaster wound was the only that still ached. Somehow, he knew it would never be healed enough. He had hesitated and therefore failed. The light was still there, making him weak. He deserved every inch of pain.

He sat on the bed, the world spinning for a couple of seconds before going back to normal. He tried to lift his right arm high, but the deep burn on his shoulder seemed to have shortened his reach. He would have to deal with that if it became permanent. Luckily, his lightsaber skills weren’t based on elegant and precise movements, but in speed and brute strength. He started to learn it properly when he was already too old to train the acrobatic skills the Jedi and Sith warriors had been known for and the man who taught him said he was too tall for that anyway.

Late students need shortcuts, he also said. That much he learned too well.

For the first time he touched the scar on his right cheek. In the end, the scavenger did him a favor when she sliced it. The sting of the cut suited him better than the ghost touch of Han Solo’s fingers. 

He tried to stand up but ended up almost in the same position General Hux held him while trying to show him how nice he could be. He had to admit that he enjoyed it more than he should. General Ginger could be basic First Order material, conceited and aseptic, but even with that stupid uniform and styled hair, no one in his right mind would deny that he was also an attractive man who, unlike himself, was able to instigate something more than curiosity and fear in his peers. A talent that, according to Snoke, young Armitage Hux never hesitated to use in order to get what he wanted.

Before his thoughts delved too much into Hux and his last visit, he stood up and finished dressing. 

He clipped the broken lightsaber to his belt and left towards his quarters, meeting no one on his way, except a spying mouse droid. Although his perception wasn’t fully reestablished, he could fell that the Finalizer contained less than a small fraction of its regular population. So selfless of General Hux to deplete his own ship in order to help the First Order war effort. He’d never take him for a considerate man, but maybe those were Leader Snoke’s orders or some high command agreement he just couldn’t refuse.

Ren was not too surprised to find Hux himself waiting for him by the door of his quarters. He left aside his first naive thought to focus on the real deal: General Hux wasn’t seeking another round of mindless entertainment; he was definitely up to something. He didn’t have to search his mind to know that. The predictable behavior of ambitious little men shouldn’t disappoint him. His master had advised him about it even before he first stepped at a First Order’s craft, as if he had never met politicians before. But in Hux’s case, despite all advice, it did. 

“So, I see you discharged yourself,” said Hux, in an unusual informal tone. “Colonel Mallin will be heartbroken, but no one can say that you don’t keep your deadlines in check. It’s been exactly seventy-one hours since we docked at the Finalizer.”

“Why are you here?”

“We need to talk. You’re my current mission, I’ve told you that. Won’t you invite me in?”

Ren made a small gesture with his hand and the door opened.

Once they stepped inside, Ren commanded the door to close. Then he grabbed Hux by the neck and slammed him against the wall, hard enough to make him groan. 

Hux didn’t fight it though. On the contrary, his lips twitched in a provocative half-smile.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Ren asked.

“What do YOU think? Are you so dull that you need me to draw it for you?”

It didn’t take more than a second for Ren to react. Anger always made him sharper and quicker and in the case it wouldn’t be different. He easily turned Hux to face the wall, satisfied to find out that colorful child-like hair was strong enough to resist his grasp. The pompous greatcoat Hux used over his shoulders didn’t resist the movement and Ren made sure to step on it as he kept its owner pressed to the wall, force-pulling his uniform pants and underwear down to his knees, exposing Hux’s butt to his already much hard dick.

“Draw this,” he growled, pushing himself all the way up that tight little ass. He meant to hurt, and maybe he did it, but not like he expected. Hux had definitely taken care of himself beforehand and Ren was still in his right mind enough to be thankful for that, even if it proved that Hux had planned the whole thing. 

Of course he had. And Ren had fallen to it, like the predictable beast Hux thought he was.

He pulled back and pushed deeper, as if it was possible. “Is that what you wanted?” he grumbled next the Hux’s ear. “To be fucked?” His left hand let go of Hux’s hair and was pressed to the wall, while the other went to the redhead’s thigh, holding it up.

Hux let go a pained breath, but that was all. Ren started thrusting harshly, speeding his pace to the point he didn’t feel Hux’s weight anymore and everything became foggy and unreal and the sound of Hux’s cadenced moans started to hit his ears like a hypnotic mantra. 

He lifted Hux’s thigh higher and the man had the nerve to melt with pleasure as he hit the right spot; a response so overwhelming to Ren’s overstimulated senses that for a brief moment he felt like they shared the same mind. Not like mind searching, but something else entirely. 

Hux’s body shivered as he came, and Ren felt his hand on the wall being squeezed by smaller yet strong fingers. 

Soon after, Ren came inside him. He had to fight so that his legs didn’t fail him, especially when Hux’s full weight fell on him. Ren had to use both hands to prop against the wall, while Hux leaned on him, boneless and sweaty and too trusting for a man in his place. As Ren’s legs gave in, they slowly slid to the floor; Ren on his knees and Hux landing unceremoniously over Ren’s lap, breathing hard and smelling, for the first time, like something real. It felt too right not to be wrong, so after the minimal needed recovery, Ren pushed Hux off his legs, not caring to be any gentler than before, and crawled away to lean on the opposing wall. 

Left on his own, Hux forced himself to stand. He took his time adjusting his clothes back on, carefully concealing the evidences of the mess they made. 

“As a matter of fact, sometimes, I do wanted to be fucked,” he answered, as if they were resuming a normal conversation. “It’s not just appropriate for a man of my rank.” He paused, as to regain his breath. “But since you’re not my subordinate, I don’t see a problem being fucked by you.” 

Ren just stared at him, too lightheaded to process the fuck rule or whatever First Order convention Hux meant by that.

Hux leaned his head, observing. “You have your hand on your side again.”

He was right. Ren didn’t realize that he was holding the bowcaster wound again. It stopped hurting. Instead, it felt deaden and damp.

“Do you have a bed here somewhere? I mean, a functional one?” asked Hux.

“You’ve got what you came here for. What else do you want?” It was a stupid question. He didn’t need a verbal and most likely deceitful answer to figure out Hux’s true intentions. Picking around Hux’s mind like that, without forcing his way in, was disorienting and useless, definitely a poor choice for the moment, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop it. 

Hux asked him another question, but the words were lost in the way. Ren just couldn’t pay attention to anything else but the unrest he sensed in Hux’s mind and the turmoil inside his own, much like what it felt like when the scavenger girl breached his thoughts. 

_Better to put him down at once_ , a voice in his head seemed to say. _Do it while you can. Don’t hesitate this time._

He had to make extra effort to come back to that room. 

Hux came near, correcting his posture, as he usually did while firing orders to the bridge’s crew. “I’ve spoken to Leader Snoke,” he said, sounding more like his usual self, collected and cocksure. “In a couple of days, we’ll be reaching the coordinates where you’ll be collected by a shuttle that will be sent for you. We both have our duties to fulfil; but in the meanwhile—” He stopped. “You’re not listening.”

The room was getting darker and colder. Ren felt Hux kneel beside him and touch his unscarred cheek. 

“It’s alright,” he said. “Stay with me.” His tone was still commanding, but smooth.

Hux just stood there, caressing his cheek with his thumb, until he was obeyed. 

“This is not going to end well for you,” Ren told him. “And it won’t last.”

“I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://an-r-1.tumblr.com/

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr - - - http://an-r-1.tumblr.com/  
> Where I basically reblog kylux stuff. :)


End file.
